Melancholy
by SheepAmongstWolves12
Summary: '... I was nothing; I am nothing to Katniss Everdeen other than some boy that she occasionally sucks face with to maintain the façade of a loving relationship to the Capitol. Nothing more. Katniss Everdeen made me understand love in the worst possible way, and I hate her for it...' Rated M. Set during CF. Review Please! Features Dark!Peeta and DirtyTalking!Peeta.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey!_

_So…I'm taking a break from my AU Everlark story and just working on this little side order…_

_I'm interested in Peeta's POV during Catching Fire, after the Games and before the Victory Tour…so it's set in that period/ time frame_

_As Peeta is a 17 yr old guy, I hardly believe that he was not filled with violent rage at Katniss during this time, that and he was probably so pissed at her that he wanted to turn badass…which is hopefully what I've achieved!_

_I don't know if this story will fly…advice for further chapters would be really appreciated! I have a couple, but I'm interested in what anyone has to say!_

_Thank you, to everyone who read the final chapter of 'Pillow Talk' …it was emotionally to say the least:)Thank you _**AmyLooWho, JustAnotherAbnormalGirl, twixy575,ElsterBird, TwiHunger, YouSaid-Always, itzybitsy, texmex7, ieizwarriorcat, wedontbelong81, SAmbalia, BERRYNICE **_and to __**katiebearbug15**__ for your alerts/PMs and reviews!_

_Dear God…__**Please Review this! Pretty Please?;)**_

_Shout Out to __**SilverMistKey… **__"Hey there girl you got me going again…AFRO CIRCUS!"_

It hurts. If I know one thing in the screwed up mess that is my life, it's that. And it's her fault. Although I was stupid enough to think that she actually gave a shit about me. About what could've happened had we not been in the fucking Games. Even then, she'd made her mind up. No kids. No relationship. Nothing. She'd wither away, a lonely, decrepit, barren old woman, alone with everything that she once cherished gone or slowly dying. She deserves it. She deserves everything that happens to her, all that guilt and burden should be put on her shoulders for what she's done. For what she led me to believe when we were in the arena_. I was just a fucking piece in her games… _

My hand bristles the hair at the back of my neck, long strands slipping through my fingertips as my eyelids pinch shut. I need a haircut; I probably resemble a Labrador at this stage. Rubbing my eyes, I shrug the sheets off in blind panic, my chest covered in a light sheen of sweat. It's been another night of muttation dreams and tracker jacker memories seeping their way in and out of my subconscious as I welcome the dawn. What's the point of sleeping for me really? The memories never leave; the thoughts of tributes being ripped apart or killed mercilessly still haunt me. My night was filled with Foxface and countless, never ending lines of deadly nightlock berries. They each pass in and out; Cato, Glimmer, Rue, Clove, Thresh…all of them serve to remind me night after night of the life that I'm living, how I got the worse deal than the rest of them. By winning the Games, I just prolonged a longer, slower and more Capitol controlled death, one that's based on this 'star crossed lovers' shit between her and me.

The worst dreams of course of her and I. My eyes involuntarily shut for a fraction of a second and I'm transported back to the cave; back to her… _Except this time it's different. We're not bleeding, dying, starving or weary. My leg is still perfectly intact and we're dressed normally, avoiding the heat from the midday sun, slipping into the darkness to find some comfort or relief. She smiles at me; an action that is so irregular in her facial movements that I blink hard to make sure it's real. Her fingers knot through mine firmly as my wrist jerks towards her; effectively pulling me closer to her. I can feel my chest heaving, although it's not from the damp, musty air that surrounds us, as her grey eyes flick into mine before looking down at our hands again. Neither of us says anything but we both anticipate what's about to happen. Her fingers trace over my knuckles and the surrounding skin of my enclosed hand in circular patterns as she tries to plan her next move. Then her eyes are on me again, deep and pensive; lost in thought before inching even closer to mine. In this very moment the world may have stopped rotating. The entire districts may have been wiped out in some nuclear experiment gone wrong. This moment feels real, so real it scares me, intimidates me even. Her lips touch mine, slowly, nervously, but still curious as she steps forward into my chest, my arms snaking around her, drawing her closer, always closer to me. It feels real, so very real and heavenly as her skin touches mine, the way her lips move against mine, pliant and willingly that when she suddenly breaks away I feel empty inside. She looks up at me, except her grey eyes are gone. In their place are a pair of scarlet ones, the colour of blood as her mouth pulls into a wicked smile before stepping blindingly fast against me and sinking two sharps rows of teeth into my neck, severing my throat to ribbons as my blood flows into her mouth…_

I wake up in a daze; images of Katniss as a muttation flood my mind vividly as I try to drag back oxygen into my lungs. The humid night leaves my head heavy and sore with all these thoughts running around and around constantly until I hear her, loud and piercing the morning air, sending a bunch of nesting mockingjays in the nearby tree into flight. The thought that she's hurting gives me some sort of sadistic gratification. She deserves it for all the shit she put me through. Besides, Gale Hawthorne will be able to look after her and fall in love with her now. There's nothing stopping him. All that hurt, all those lies, all those kisses in front of the cameras that was all just some sort of survival game to her, but of a different one from her previous life. The cool wooden floor of my bedroom hits the soles of my feet acting as a comforting reassurance that I'm still alive. That I'm still here. That I still have that internal injury from her that time will not seem to mend. The girl on fire played me for the cameras and didn't think twice about how I'd feel. She used me for food. She only came to my rescue when she heard that without me she wouldn't be able to go home without me. She made me believe that it was real, that we: her and I were real. I was nothing; I am nothing to Katniss Everdeen other than some boy that she occasionally sucks face with to maintain the façade of a loving relationship to the Capitol. Nothing more. Katniss Everdeen made me understand love in the worst possible way, and I hate her for it.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello:)_

_Wow! Thank you so very much for the interest in this story! I know it's only just begun_

_Thank you to __**Destined627,pokips, beefwellington03, justcuz123, TwiHunger, Bubba98, purplerose5000, Howl3, hotfuss120, LifesToShortToCare, pyroeyes, green- smurf1013, DarknessPwns0.o, wdwlinz**__ and to __**peetame **__for all the Alerts/ Favourites etc._

_Thanks in particular to __**Destined627,justcuz123, pyroeyes,Bubba98, complicatedness, **__and__** peetame**__ for your reviews! I'm glad you like Peeta as a badass:)_

_**SilverMistKey**__… You taste like a ham sandwich…I love you..:)_

"You did know what you were getting yourself in for…it is partially your fault you know"

Why is he acting as if I wanted this to happen? As if I wanted to pull on this charade for the rest of my life.

"Fuck off Haymitch… You don't understand…no one does…" the words come out in a slurred muddle; the neck of the bottle touches my bottom lip gently as I tip my head back slowly, relishing how the liquid hits the back of my throat, burning me.

"Although I'm glad I've introduced to you alcohol, there is a thing called excess Peeta..."

"Like you care…"

"Ahh… it's her, isn't it?"

I slug the bottle's contents down my throat, feeling the flames rip through the tissue of my throat, spreading through my veins and into my blood, warm and tingling. Of course he'd bring her up into conversation; he knows that that wound is still raw to the touch.

"She hurt you, didn't she Peeta?"

My head drops into the palm of my hand, trying to steady myself as the effects of the alcohol begin to make me feel nauseous.

"It was all part of the deal in the beginning; I knew what was coming…"

"But you didn't think that maybe she would actually feel the same way as you felt about her…the way you still feel about her son"

His eyes square up into mine and my rage intensifies at the thought of his plan to keep us alive in the Games. The unspoken agreement between him and Katniss to use our 'romance' as a method of survival to ensure that both of us survived. It all becomes too much for me, my head feels sore from the alcohol and Haymitch's reminder of the past which is painful enough.

"I'm right though, aren't I Peeta? You love her. Even after all this melodrama that's happened between you and her and the press. Even that Hawthorne boy knows that there's something between you and her. That's exactly why she hasn't gone off with him. She's confused is all…"

"Funny that. She seems to know exactly what she was doing in that cave Haymitch. How you would only send her supplies when we had a deep conversation or after a session of sucking face. You were in on it Haymitch. I don't need this shit right now either, it's bad enough that I beat myself up every day over her, but I don't need your fuckin' contribution!"

My words are coated in venom as they flood out of my mouth with hate. I hate them all, and worse of all, Haymitch hasn't touched a drop of liquor today, so I look like the irresponsible, irrational drunk. How fucking ironic and predictable that straight edge Peeta Mellark would go off the rails over Katniss Everdeen. Fucking perfect. My feet stumble out my kitchen and make a beeline for my room the lock as I shut it tight behind.

"You can't hide from her forever Peeta, you know it and so does she; so the sooner you get over yourselves the better things will get. I'm off, geese need a feeding" Haymitch speaks through the door, finally leaving me alone, like everyone else in life.

"Fuck it" I grumble, my mouth in the pillow as I drag myself back under the covers, wishing that sleep will find me and I won't have to dream of muttations or tributes or Katniss Everdeen.

My mind crosses to another person, another set of elegant, slender limbs and long curling blonde hair. Someone who doesn't fire arrows or manipulate people in order to stay alive. Someone with smooth, undamaged skin and blue yes like my own. Someone who has always been there, but more as friend than anything else. Why did it have to be Everdeen? Why couldn't it have been Delly Cartwright? Sweet, lovely Delly would've been such a better choice for me. But would she have me, a battered emotionally and physically scarred boy on the cusp of manhood who frequently delves into the near death experience he had with the one girl he truly loved since he was five? Would it be the same for us as it once was? Stop. Don't think like that. Katniss did this to you; she's the one who deserves to be in pain, not you Peeta.

I opened myself to her and she stomped all over my affections, she threw away my love as if it was something awful. I deserve better than her, besides, why should I feel guilty? That bitch already has a boy lined up to take my place and if she can have Gale Hawthorne than I will not let myself feel bad for wanting someone else. I reach into the drawer of my bedside table, my fingers fumbling for that spare bottle of vodka that I keep for emergencies. Alcohol makes things better sometimes, but only sometimes. Often enough it isn't sufficient to send me into a dreamless bliss where I can actually forget about everything, forget about tributes and Games, forget about her and the possibilities and hopes that I once had before the arena.

The liquid seeps down my throat, creasing my eyes before I can finish it entirely. My head sinks down into the fluffy down of the pillow and I wait for sleep to take me, allowing one more thought of Delly smiling to creep into my mind before finally blackening out and surrendering to the alcohol but not to Katniss Everdeen or to the memories she left with me. It's decided. Forget about the arena, forget about her, focus on Delly, not as a distraction but as…as what?


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey Everyone:)_

_Wow! People seem to be really into this side of Peeta! Damn!_

_Thank you for Alerting/ Flagging the story, __**Katniss Everdeen – mockingjay, SEGAgirl82, justcuz123, You Said- Always (ILOVEYOU!), ZombieDD, gwood **__and __**complicatedness **__for that__**.**_

_Thanks in particulars to the reviewers and PM ers who tell me what they think!_

_**YouSaid- Always, peetame, justcuz123, Destined627, pyroeyes **__and __**complicatedness **__for the longest review you've ever written! I'm honoured:)_

_**SilverMistKey… "Coz You're My Audrey Hepburn And I'm Your James Dean..." Lol:)**_

_**Rated M for **__sexual tension…and acting on said sexual tension…Damn it! Why is Peeta so hot when he's bad…?;)_

"Peeta, are you sure that this is a good idea?"

I look into her eyes, wide and genuine at the thought of what she has said, the pair of us sitting at my kitchen table. Is this a good idea? Is it too soon? Would she feel as a constellation prize for someone that I could never have? I want her, I want something; something deep inside that pulls me in the pit of my stomach and craves for someone to take care of me, to stop the internal assault of past memories and experiences.

She beams back at me, her long hair swirling past her shoulders, skimming a random freckle on her upper arm, curling at the ends. This is a good idea, why shouldn't I go ahead with it? And she is someone who would appreciate me, someone who would reciprocate, and someone who I could…love? In time yes, I could learn to love her silly antics and sweetness and she could try to fix me. Mend me like some shabby patch work doll and make me into something pretty.

Her eyes search mine, anticipating and nervous at the same time. They shut as I press my lips against hers, gentle at first then building up a steady pressure, a nice tingling feeling, not like it was with… no. Don't think like that. Don't think of her. Not now. Bolting out of my chair, I crush myself against Delly's mouth, feeling her gasp and moan into my mouth as my hands curl around her, lifting her from the chair into my chest. Her hands grab my hair with intensity, she wants me too, as badly as I want her, want someone, anything just to feel human again. Just to feel something that I was before the Games and Katniss Everdeen fucked me up. And now all I can relish in is the pain of Delly's nails clawing my hair as I bite her bottom lip, pulling it back aggressively and her feeble attempts at trying to flip me onto the table.

She writhers beneath me, her long arms above her head, my mouth planting kisses all along her neck, willing her to whimper, to say my name out loud at the things that I'm doing to her. Although I'm turned on myself, it is sort of involuntarily, there is a void between sex and love after all, but seeing Delly sprawled out in front of me lets biology win.

"Peeta…"

I kiss her harder, taking both of her hands in mine so that our bodies are pulled completely together, my chest lying on top of her whilst her legs dangle off the edge of the table. This is how it should've been, real, gripping, and alive, not a charade or anything fake. Delly's spine jerks against mine and her breathing becomes erratic as she breaks away from me abruptly.

"Peeta! This isn't you"

"Huh?"

"You don't want this, you think you do, but you don't, Peeta. You want someone to have angry sex with, I get it"

I lean away from her, standing up straight whilst she adjusts herself so that she sits upright in front of me.

"You're harbouring frustration and sexual tension and anger, and that's understood, but it's more than that…you know it is, deep down here"

She points to that spot on the left side of my chest, her finger gently prodding my skin through my shirt. Her eyes meet mine and the rejection stings in my face. Fuck, she thinks I'm damaged goods. She thinks that I've suffered already by the hands of another woman that I'm strung out on her like a morphling addict. Bitch. Delly must sense my frustration as her eyes widen and her hand slips away from my chest. My eyes soften immediately at the movement, remembering how it felt nice, pleasant even as I take my hand in hers slowly. Showing her that she means more than and that I'm not angry, not at her at least. Will Everdeen funnel her way into every other relationship that comes my way?

"Peeta, it's not your fault… I like you, I really do… and that was hot… but it's not you. It's not the guy I know" she smiles.

"And who is the guy you know, Delly? Coz I'm not him. Everything about him was warped and torn away the minute my name was pulled out of that bowl. The Games changed me, they change everybody. So I'm sorry if the sweet, innocent, happy guy you used to know is gone but that's the reality!" I spit, anger flooding through my voice.

The words hang in the space between us; regret flooding in my mind as a single tear slips down her face.

"Delly…" She jerks away from my other hand.

"Delly… I'm sorry … for hurting you… I just… I can't be the old Peeta who loved life anymore. Not now that I've seen how truly brutal it can be. And that's the truth of it all…"

My hands slip away from hers and I lean back against the counter top, my fingers knotted together over my face, trying to find some solace and relief in this awkward situation. Even Delly thinks I'm screwed up, but over what is unclear to her. All she knows is that the Games always change the victors, no matter what.

She looks at me one last time as her feet slip to the floor before she steps in front of me, taking my hands down,; my eyes lazily staring back into hers as she rises up to kiss my cheek. The muscles in my cheek pull up into a small smile and she knows that I'm alright now, even though the calm will not spread for long.

"Peeta… you need to stop blaming yourself for stuff that was out of your control… You survived… You are lucky to have a second shot at life…make it count for something"

"I will, I promise, I will"

"You'll be okay?"

"Will you?"

"Yeah, I better get going, it's late… I do love you, you know…in my own way"

She smiles; we've played this game since we were twelve. I've always loved her; not romantically, but as a sister or something like that.

"I know what you mean… I love you too Delly….in my own way"

"Bye Peet"

"Bye Dell"

She walks out the door and the minute I lock it behind me, the smile slips from my face and anger is replaced. I'm a broken man. And absolutely nothing will relieve me from this torment; from the damaged good that I am. From that one demon that permeates my past: Katniss Everdeen.


	4. Chapter 4

_Hey!_

_I'm happy today:) Is anybody else overjoyed? Let me know!_

_So…Peeta and Delly huh?;) …Wish it was me…:)_

_Thanks to all you good people who sit patiently at your computers and wait for this, I hope its worth your time is all…__**Peetame, Destined627, justcuz123, ElsterBird, Torygirl, complicatedness,**__(I gave myself a big hug from you, thank you!)__**kismet4891, dnino, Bright Lights and White Nights **__(__Where did you vanish to?:__) ) __**passionately- curious, Bubba98, Mirage Rules kaitoukiddo87, Smiles Laced with Cyanide**__ and __**hungergamesaddict0812 **__for Alerting/ Flagging/ Reviewing this story!:)_

_**SilverMistKey…Camoflage!;)**_

* * *

"Are you sure that that was your first time?" she asks, climbing out of bed, her long fingers slipping on her briefs and reaching for her bra on the floor.

I rang her up half an hour after Delly left; the tremors of abhorrence became overwhelming and vodka was not helping. I watch her long, smooth, unscathed back as she slips her high heels back on, one at a time.

"Yes, why?"

She leans her head over her shoulder so that I can see her eyes beaming into mine in the hazy light.

"I thought that you and Katniss had perhaps…?"

My head slumps back into the pillow, our eyes never breaking contact as I breathe deeply, an answer plotting in my mind.

"No…no we didn't…Why?"

"Peeta…for a virgin you knew a lot more than I'd given you credit for"

A small lovely noise slips out of her mouth as she says the last bit, her cheeks reddening slightly at the remark. Our eyes still smoulder into the others as she leans in for a kiss; and a different feeling takes over from the usual rage that brews inside of me.

"I'm full of surprises"

My voice is silky smooth and reeking of seduction against her velvet ear.

"I'll bet you are"

"Hmmm… So…?"

I look at her with fake nonchalance on my face, my arms hooking to her sides before tumbling back down together, skin to skin. Her fingers comb the side of my hair and my thumb skims her cheek as the kiss deepens, my free hand twitching the clasp on her bra.

What about morals? Old Peeta wouldn't have done this. Fuck, he didn't have the balls to tell the girl he'd loved for so long how he felt about her until it was too late. He died back in the arena, along with the slim hope of a better future for himself…a future that involved the girl who went in with him. And all that was left of that hope were scars and the remainder of skin that once was his left leg. There was still hope left for him, not for the ideal future he had planned but maybe with someone else. Maybe in time he could regain some of his old ways, rediscover the old Peeta, the one that hadn't been claimed by the Games.

Until then, the feel of her beneath me as our pelvis grind rhythmically together will have to do. She squirms, feeling me entirely hidden within before rocking against me, the pressure intensifying until I collapse on top of her, rattling the bed frame against the wall as we both crash. Clambering away from her, the euphoria doesn't last for long, even with her hands strumming all over my skin, soothing me, exhaustion setting into my bones. She retrieves her clothes again, except this time I don't bother watching or talking to her. Her lips press against my hair one last time before the door shuts behind, leaving me alone again. Alone with the thoughts of how that should've been with someone else. It should've been her. No one else.

Do I hate life this much? Is it worth being in a prison that I can't escape from for the rest of my life, knowing that it will never end? Can I live knowing that the one person who actually mattered most deceived me and denied my affections all for the sake of survival? What does it even matter? She's made her point crystal fucking clear now that her family are taken care of and starvation, along with finance is taken out of the equation. What else could Katniss possible need apart from that and Gale? Why did I even think that I had made any sort of impact or change to her, it was all a lie in the end.

I reach out for my bedside drawer, naked, tired and hidden under my sheets for the emergency vodka bottle. It isn't long before my eyes give in and the world around me becomes one large swirling mess, a comforting sign that soon I'll slip away and hopefully lose myself a little bit more to her. Because no matter how much I try to distract myself, the end is inevitable. I will have to face her someday soon, and I will have to deal with it and act as I did in the Arena…apart from this time…she won't be pretending to be in love alone, I'll be acting alongside her for the Capitol's show.


	5. Chapter 5

_I'm really surprised that so many people are writing to me about this story… it was meant to be something different whilst I worked on my AU Everlark tale, but I'm thinking that I will continue with this story, maybe even take it further than I had initially intended…?_

_Thank you: __**bellaterra,Kismet4891, nettie 13, Bright Lights and White Nights, complicatedness, justcuz123, cac007, greyc, EdwardxLoverx3, BERRYNICE, annarosen, Lyssindra, pyroseyes**__ and __**hotcoals**__ for reviewing/ Alerting/ Flagging this story:)_

_Thanks for the reviews! It's a shame that a few of them were by anonymous folks so that I can't PM you personally, but I'll clear up a couple of queries briefly in this A/N now:)_

…_**Peeta didn't do it with Delly…;)**_

… _**If enough people review and ask for it, I will write Katniss' version of this story, but only if the demand is there …**_

…_**Fair enough she brought Peeta home, but I still don't like the way that she continued to take advantage of him afterwards, therefore I believe that he did hate her for cutting him off…**_

…_**Whoever said they loved the ending of the last chapter… You're a legend!:)…**_

… _**I have read "Pure or the Five Times Peeta Wasn't" by aimmyarrowshigh, truly great stuff! Thanks for that recommendation! Also Katniss may find out…then again, she may not…What happens in Mellark's stays in Mellark's kinda thing might be going on…;)**_

_Apologies to __**pyroseyes…**__I've been spelling your name incorrectly in all my previous A/Ns…sorry:(_

_**Reviews are always welcomed :)**_

_**SilverMistKey… "She doesn't even go here!"**_

* * *

Its early morning when I arrive at the bakery, the sky mirroring my bloodshot eyes as I turn the key in the door. I need to get away from home, away from my bitch of a mother. Away from the fiasco of yesterday with Delly and the table. Away from vodka and its side effects. Away from that encounter with Madge Undersee in my bedroom. Away from the twisted and distorted dreams and fused memories of fallen tributes. But most of all, away from the screaming that woke me up, high pitched and blood curling, the sound coming from the house across the road. The Everdeen house. Katniss isn't dealing with the night tremors either. It's been about four months since we came home from the Games. In two weeks, the Victory Tour will commence and the charade will come back into play for us.

Dust rises as I heave a sack of flour over my shoulder and onto the counter, before stoking the fire, the flames reminding me of her in that red dress at the tribute parade. I roll out some dough, kneading it in artful shapes, pressing and moulding it out of anger. It never ends, the rage, the hate, the feeling of hurt anytime I think of her. I just want…I don't know. I don't know what I want anymore; nothing feels the same, regardless of what I do. All I can feel is pain and hate for her and its insatiable, it just keeps on boiling and building until it gets too much, but no matter how much I scream, how far I run or how much I drink, she's still there, like a hunger or a craving that refuses to go. My thoughts are broken up when the phone rings, loud and thunderous against the silence.

"Hello?"

"Peeta! I trust you're well and enjoying life!"

Oh. Good. Fuck…its Effie Trinket and her ridiculous high pitched voice on the other end.

"Eh…something like that, yeah…"

Then I remember that Effie thinks I'm a gentleman, so a sliver of Old Peeta comes back into my voice.

"How're you Effie? How're things in the Capitol?"

"Dear boy I'm jovial! I'm actually ringing you from the train station right now with the prep teams! Yes, I'll be arriving in District Twelve this time in two days to go through some details and preparations for the Victory Tour! You'll love it Peeta! Visiting all the other districts, as victors nonetheless and…"

She keeps on talking, but my head refuses to acknowledge that Effie Trinket and her hideous poodle up do will be at my home in two days. My hand rubs the back of my neck, catching the longer curls of hair. Goodbye Labrador hair.

"…Peeta? Are you still there my dear?"

"Huh? …Sorry Effie!...Oven was …um…needed…eh…stoking"

A sharp grunt comes from my throat as I clear it before focusing back in on the conversation.

"I asked whether or not you and Katniss have been well?"

"Oh…yeah, yeah we're…we're alright I guess"

"Oh! Young love! I'm so happy for the pair of you! Surely you must spend every waking moment with each other, as only that experience in the Games can ensure! Oh I'm delighted for you Peeta! Must dash, the trains leaving now! See you in two days, dear boy!

"Until then, Effie, bye!"

She is not staying in my house. Haymitch already practically lives with me and I do not want her and her travelling sideshow of Capitol freaks anywhere near me. I concentrate on the dough again, remembering the feel of Madge's skin beneath my fingertips last night. How it had been so easy to call her over, to talk to her, to touch her without her questioning or being confused about my motives. It had been easy, so very easy to pretend that I was somewhere else, with someone else, where Arenas and struggles didn't exist. But that was how I used to deal with things; imaging how things could be if I hadn't been reaped, if I had a normal future to come back to. Marry a nice girl like Delly, settle down, have a couple of kids, run the bakery, die a happy man. Except now that future is lost, with no way of retrieving it. That call from Effie just confirmed that the cameras will never stop, the exposure will become even more relentless and the Capitol will expect more and more from both her and I.

The realisation of how long it has been since I've been in the Games hits me like a deer in the headlights of a truck. Has it really been that long since we escaped the Arena? Or maybe it's the fact that we never did escape at all; all we did was enter a bigger, even more dangerous one with worse games to play. Except this time, I'll be in on the act, playing the lead role in this charade. The Girl on Fire and The Boy with the Bread, together, a united symbol of hope. A symbol of how the Capitol works, corrupting and taking the innocence of everyone in its path.

The phone rings again, this time it's a gruffer, harsher voice at the other end.

"We need to talk. You need to get your shit together, boy. Tonight, eight o' clock. My place. And you better not be pissed or give me some excuse as to why you can't go…."

"Alright Haymitch, I'll be there. What's this all about?" I ask, my voice agitated.

First Effie, now him. Who else wants to make my day more fucking perfect?

"Eight o' clock. Mine. We'll discuss things then"

"Hay.."

The phone dies with the first syllable. What could he possibly want?


	6. Chapter 6

_Hey!:)_

_So I figured that I will write more than I had initially planned for this story (It was only meant to go on till the Victory Tour, but I'm thinking of stretching it to before the Quarter Quell) I don't know…We'll see how this goes!_

_Many thanks __**to BubblyGreenBubbles, complicatedness, justcuz123, peetame, Destined627, kismet4891, YouSaid- Always, pyroseyes, peenissmellark, EdwardxLoverx3, Aqua Rules, hlmalone2012irc, icy- pole 101, and**__ to__** Gemmaaaa**__, for your alerts and reviews! I must be doing something right!:)_

_Special shout out to __**Justcuz123**__ for your PMs to me…You're hilarious and you can hit Katniss with a squirrel, I'll cook it/ make a soup with it:D_

_To the anonymous reviewer…Thank you:) I do want to write books/ stories for a living, and I love your encouragement. Hope your wait hasn't been too long and in vain!:D_

_A lot of people were astonished at the Madge thing in the last chapter… We aim to surprise here ;)_

_Also! Seeing as how it's my birthday soon, I wanna do something for you guys here on FF:)_

_**The 68**__**th**__** reviewer of this story shall receive a one shot of their choosing from me.**__ All on your terms, so that means if you want any little back stories to Melancholy, (eg… Haymitch's POV of what he saw happen on Peeta's kitchen table for instance…;) ) Or anything along those lines, feel free to leave it in a review and I'll do my best, scout's honour:) _

_**Reviews are welcomed, as always:)**_

_**SilverMistKey**__… "Candy cane mountain, Charlie!:)"_

* * *

The second my hand touches the handle of Haymitch's front door, I instantly feel trapped. Would he have Katniss standing in the kitchen? Would he try to get us friendly again before Effie came to town? Seems a legit enough reason for such an abrupt meeting, especially when he didn't disclose any details about it. Shit. It's too late now, I'm already making my way to the living room, my eyes darting all around, noticing how clean the house is compared to other days.

Haymitch sits in an old red armchair, a glass of scotch held in his outstretched, limp hand as he eyes are dark in thought staring into the fire. I instantly relax, enjoying how the relief spreads through me; he didn't set me up with Katniss.

"Haymitch…?"

He continues to stare into the fire, watching the flames dance, his eyes deep, pensive.

"We need to talk…"

"Huh?" his trance broken, he stares at me as I pace across the floor towards him.

"The talk you wanted to have…?"

"Ah…Yes. Sit down, Peeta"

He gestures to the chair sitting opposite him, and I sink down, comfortably. He sits up abruptly, his movement quick yet jerky, as he the glass slips down to the ground.

"Alright kid, here's the score. You and Everdeen are leaving here in two weeks… and we need you to be friends again. Together, you're a symbol of hope, of love even. Divided, you're just some guy and she's just some girl; the romance is key to your campaign. Now, I don't care how you go about it, so long as it happens. Understood?"

My mouth hangs open slightly as what he says registers in my head. He wants me to make up with her. No. Fucking. Way.

"I know that you think that she used you, Peeta, but this stretches far beyond you and her now. That stunt that you pulled in the Games… that was under the illusion that the pair of you were…still are, so irrevocably in love that you'd rather die than be separated… Nothing like that has EVER happened in the Hunger Games. Ever. Not only did it show the Capitol up, it also caused major aggravation, and in some cases, rebellion towards them by the districts…"

"What?

My mind is blank. I knew about the berries being used as a ploy to get me home with her, about the pretended romance, but not about the rebellions or the seriousness of our actions causing havoc in the Capitol.

"Peeta, Trinket is coming here in two days. I can guarantee you that shit will go down if you haven't made up with Katniss by then. Effie's going to be running through tonnes of crap for the Victory Tour, and you cannot be seen disjointed. If you do, we're all dead. Simple as. Snow believes that we've started a fire, a fire that will turn our world upside down if we do not put it out…that's another reason why I've asked you here…"

"Haymitch, I get the whole "make friends with the bitch next door" thing, but what else is happening in other districts? What will happen if we can't convince them or Snow?"

"Peeta…that's exactly what we want"

Haymitch's eyes light up as the last words come out of his mouth. A rebellion; uproar from the districts. And he wants Katniss and I to continue to add fuel to the fire, to spread that fire that we started in the Games…

"Haymitch… I can't. I have too much hate for her right now..."

"It's not a question, Peeta. You've done it before, just by going along with Katniss. This needs to happen, Peeta. Even if it's just for show…"

He looks at me with curious eyes, the glass of scotch back in his hand.

I get it. He's saying "go along with it" without verbalising the actual idea. Pretend to be someone I once was… I mull the idea around in my head again and again. The gravity of the situation hits me and I realise that we're waist deep in crap. We need to pull this off convincingly, for all our sakes. If not, we're all screwed, and our families will pay for this, they'll slowly drop like flies in a deadly battle against the Capitol. Can I risk that? All for what someone once did in order to show up the Capitol for what they really are?

I feel Haymitch's eyes burn on me for a long, lingering moment.

"I'll do it"

"You know what that entails, Peeta…The romance"

"I know"

"Even though it seems difficult now, it will get easier once the heat is taken away from the pair of you, and onto the rebellion itself"

I shrug at him, indifferent. Once you're living a lie, it becomes second nature to you. Except this time, I'm somewhat prepared for what's to come. Sure, I'll play alongside Katniss for the Victory Tour, but that doesn't mean anything.

"Is that all, Haymitch?"

"Yup"

Just as I reach the door, his voice cuts the silence.

"Peeta…?"

I turn to look back at him, mischief spreads across his face.

"Madge Undersee... Nice work, son. If I was young again, and looked like you…"

I feel myself genuinely smile at him, as he cracks up with laughter.

I can handle the Victory Tour. And maybe I can handle the violent rage that stirs inside of me for Katniss Everdeen, for the sake of everyone else, I'll have to, for all our sakes…


	7. Chapter 7

_Hey:)_

_So…We're getting close to the big Mash up between Katniss and Peeta, but this is just a feeder for that later chapter … sorry:)_

_As always, thanks to my loyal readers who alert, flag and review my work…__**peetame, YouSaid-Always, Bright Lights and White Nights, kismet4891, justcuz123, greyc, complicatedness, heartandsoulsinger, Amanthya, NcisIsLikeCupcakes, EdwardxLoverx3**__, __**Angelyne80,**__**ieizwarriorcat**__ and the __**two anonymous reviewers**__ for your continued encouragement!_

_**SilverMistKey**__… Everybody Take off your pants and jackets!_

* * *

The phone is cold against my ear. It feels as if my heart is beating at a rhythm so intense that it's probably audible on the other side of the phone. Deep breaths, deep, deep breaths, Mellark, there mightn't be anyone there to pick up. The plastic is trembling violently in my hand as I wait.

And then, there she is, better than I imagined, remembered even.

"Hello?"

"Peeta…?"

She sounds distant, lost even, as if the word is foreign to her. I swallow hard before replying to her, steadying the flood of emotions through my mind.

"Yeah…It's me…I jus…"

"Haymitch had a talk with me…about the Victory Tour and stuff…"

"Oh…"

"Yeah…I was actually going to ring you… Can we meet up or …something?"

The knot forms in my throat again, although this time it doesn't budge when I swallow. Meet up with her? Can I do that? We haven't seen each other properly in so long, except just glimpses from far away. That and Hawthorne is always by her side, reinforcing the fact that there's no space for me in her life anymore.

"Peeta…?"

Snap back into reality, Mellark.

"Yeah… What did you have in mind..?"

"Well… I was wondering if I could come over to yours... Just coz Prim and my mom are always there, and we have a lot to discuss…"

Katniss Everdeen is coming over to my house. My mind drifts again to that emergency vodka bottle, hiding upstairs in the drawer of my bedside table, hoping that there's something left inside of it. The words splurge out, without censorship from my brain.

"Sure, how's about mine at two?"

Fuck, is that a hint of optimism in my voice for her?

"Okay, see you then"

"Bye"

"Bye….Oh and Peeta?"

"Yes?"

"It's good to hear your voice again…Bye"

With that, the phone dies, and a new feeling overcomes me. Sure, there's the hate, but there's this queasy, almost sickly sweet feeling in the pit of my stomach that's glad to hear her say my name again. And the fact that's she's coming over doubles the feeling, adding a twinge of nausea and anxiety to the mix. The nerves are setting in at the thought of what I'm about to embark upon in the next thirty minutes.

"It's good to hear your voice again" keeps running over and over again… What does that mean exactly? As in "I'm glad you're alive and I'm sorry for being such a twisted bitch who messed with your head for the past six months" kind of way? Or, how about a "it's good that you're alive, just in case Gale dies and I need a backup guy to hang out with?"

Relax, she's probably not thinking about this half as much as I am. Why should I be worried? I'm not the person who lied and dreamed up this scheme for survival. She's the one that endorsed this new, dangerous game that Old Peeta mistook for love. Love was the lie that fabricated our relationship; it was needed for surviving and getting sponsors. I can't remember how to be that guy anymore. It's like she stripped it from me and now all's that left is a shadow of who I once was. And now is the day that I face up to her, confront her even. Now is the time to let the guilt and rage flood out; to find out exactly how we're going to ride out these next few months, for the expense of the Capitol's cameras, and for Snow himself. Does Katniss know about the rebellion though? Would Haymitch trust her enough to fill her in or would the risk of her fucking up like she did in the Games be too great? I won't mention it unless she brings it up. My train of thought is disrupted when I hear the door being ratted upon, undoubtedly by Katniss 'I'll lie for food, then stomp all over your heart' Everdeen.

The lock slips from my fingers as I pull it open, the anger boiling up inside of me, aching for a release from the building pressure. She stands before me, her stance square. She's dressed in unusual attire for her; a long white cotton dress hits her mid-thigh, her hair splayed around her shoulders, free from the constraining plait that she usually sports. Her eyes are on mine, steely grey versus deep blue as we stand there, motionless, waiting for the storm of words to come out.

"Hi"

I continue to stare her down, unwilling to give into her again. How she won't fool me again.

That's why the word comes out in a harsh grunt rather than a polished syllable.

"Hello"

"Can I come in?" her tone hopeful, a smile curling on her lips, a flicker of hope in her eyes even.

"Sure…"

I turn on my heel, letting her follow me into my house, hearing the door close firmly behind us, making my way into the living room. She follows my lead and I gesture towards an armchair. She sits daintily down and pulls her hair away from her chest, her eyes burning into mine as I sit across from her, my hands held out in front of me, the silence envelopes us, as we wait for the other to break the ice…


	8. Chapter 8

_Folks!:)_

_Today is the day! (Dramatic background music plays):) _

_Thank you , thank you, thank you to the __**three anonymous reviewers, **__**kismet4891, justcuz123, thehungrycat, ashleyBB88, complicatedness, Harunifuyu, peetame, sigsauer226, teampeeta4ever, cttl234, Ieizwarriorcat,**__ and to __**Angelyne80**__ for your alerts and encouraging reviews and PMs as always!_

_**To the anonymous reviewer… Damn me and my cliff-hangers? You secretly LOVE them!:) **_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own THG or any characters… just the ideas and concepts are mine:)**_

_This chapter is dedicated to __**kismet 4891**__ for our late night PM chats…I also highly recommend their (apologies for not knowing if you're a guy or a girl…I'll take a stab at girl?) stories __**"First Speech"**__ and __**"Evolution"**__…two epic stories!_

_**Rated M…;) REVIEW THIS FOR ME PLEASE!:)**_

_**SilverMistKey**__… You're not even reading this!:)_

* * *

"So… You know that Effie is coming to town tomorrow…?"

"Yeah… she rang me yesterday"

My eyes drop to the floor as I stroke the back of my head, trying to feel less awkward than I already do.

"Peeta, talk to me…It's been far too long since we…"

Anger floods my brain at the thought of what she's insinuating; that we're both to blame for this breach in conversation, this lapse in communication. My eyes meet hers again, this time rage filled and primal. The intimidation in her eyes shows and the grey globes widen as a new, strange emotion crosses her face…fear? My voice is low, steady, dangerous as the words come out, tensing the atmosphere.

"Katniss, it's not my fault that you were a total bitch to me…you hurt me beyond recognition in those Games…you made me believe that you felt the same…"

Her stance becomes more rigid as she sits upright in the chair, her eyes narrowing.

"Peeta, I never meant to do that to you… I had to do it, you know why…"

She's diverting away from the real question, acting as if it's okay to use and dispose of people as she sees fit. Fuck this. Fuck her. Bitch. I can't hold it in anymore and almost instantly I rise to my feet, my eyes staring her down.

"YOU MADE ME BELIEVE THAT YOU LOVED ME! AND ALL THE TIME YOU WERE JUST USING ME TO GET HOME TO GALE FUCKING HAWTHORNE!"

She follows suit and stands up, her expression its regular scowl, suits her, bitch.

"I DID IT TO BRING YOU HOME YOU STUPID PRICK! BESIDES, IF YOU REALLY DID LOVE ME, THEN WHY HAVEN'T YOU BOTHERED EITHER?"

"COZ I KNOW YOU KATNISS! I KNOW THAT I WAS JUST A PLOY TO YOU! I WAS JUST A PIECE IN YOUR FUCKING GAMES! THE GAMES DIDN'T CHANGE ME INTO THE PRICK THAT YOU THINK I AM….YOU DID!"

I take a step towards her as I speak, my words poised to wound her badly.

"WELL I'M SURE YOU'VE BEEN LICKING YOUR WOUNDS PEETA…AND ANYTHING ELSE THAT MOVES!"

Shit. She knows about my play date with Madge. Good, she deserves to feel jealous; maybe it'll give her a morsel of how I've felt about her and that man beast Hawthorne.

"WHAT'S WRONG PEETA? THOUGHT THAT I DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT YOUR RENDEZVOUS WITH DELLY? AND WITH MADGE? OH YEAH, YOU'VE REALLY BEEN DOWN…PROBABLY BETWEEN BOTH OF THEIR LEGS TRYING TO MAKE YOURSELF FEEL BETTER!"

She spits, venom coating every syllable as she steps towards me.

"OH! ARE WE REALLY GONNA PLAY THIS GAME KATNISS? I COULD SAY THE EXACT SAME ABOUT YOU AND PERFECT GALE HAWTHORNE? IS HE THAT GOOD IN THE SACK KATNISS?"

"DON'T TALK ABOUT HIM, PEETA! HE WAS THERE WHEN YOU WEREN'T!"

Oh. That's a nerve, right there. Another step towards her, practically breathing her in.

"BULLSHIT! I WAS THERE! DO YOU REMEMBER THAT TIME WITH THE BREAD KATNISS? WHERE WAS PRECIOUS GALE WHEN YOU WERE EMACIATED AND STARVING? I ENDURED A BEATING FROM MY MOTHER FOR YOU! NOT THAT IT MATTERS, OR THAT YOU CARE, COZ GALE PERFECT HAWTHORNE JUST SWOOPED IN AND SAVED YOU!"

She takes the final step so that we're nearly flush against each other. I am on fire, anger floods through my veins, my breathing heavy, synchronising with hers as the shouting match pauses for a second and her eyes look into mine, our chests heaving against one another.

Then, almost instantaneously we collide and collapse on the floor, our legs tangled together, similar to the way our lips gnaw and bite at each other's. My hands clamp on her body; one knotted in her hair, pulling her tightly to my face, the other on her hip, crushing her against my growing erection. We twirl around on the floor, a bunch of angry, animalistic grunts and snorts coming from us. Her hands alter between fisting handfuls of hair and her nails digging into my back as our tongues battle for dominance, as I lie on top of her. The anger is fading from me. Delly was right about the anger sex. My arms pull her into my chest as I sit us upright, her dress riding up her thighs as legs straddling my crotch; my teeth nibble the skin of her neck, sucking her into my mouth, before tracing my nose down to her collarbone and running my tongue over it. She grabs my hair with both hands, the roots hurting as she forces her pelvis against my crotch. Fuck, this was not what I was expecting when she asked to come over earlier today.

We collapse again to the floor, breaking from each other, trying to get our breath back. She speaks slowly, her voice timid as a fat water droplet slipping down her cheek.

"I know you did…I think about it all of the time…and the fact that this is tearing you up…"

I don't know what it is that makes my thumb rise up to her cheek and wipe the saltwater across her cheek, gently. The red fog has almost vanished, for now.

"Ssh… Katniss…I don't think we can do this…we're both highly strung out on emotions and right now and I think…maybe after the madness of all this… I don't know… I am still angry at you…"

"Peeta… for now… can we try?"

Her voice is soft, like that of a child, as her head turns to look at me.

"Honestly? I still hate your guts…I wake up every day trying to find some relief, some new lease from the Games…from you…but you still haunt me, Katniss"

I sit up and rise to my feet slowly and she quickly follows suit, straightening her dress.

"What about the Victory Tour?"

I look down, trying to figure out how to handle the situation. My eyes meet hers again before speaking.

"We give them what they want…the star crossed lovers of District 12 shit when the cameras are around. After that…I don't know Katniss…I really don't know…"

I turn away from her, I don't want her to see how torn up I am right now.

"Peeta…I am sorry…I really am…I …I don't know what's happening…and I'm scared…and I've screwed up, I know that … but I need you to help me…even if it's just for show…I can live with that…"

I hear her walk past me, heading for the front door. My hands ball up, the knuckles turning white.

"By the way… Gale is nothing more than a brother to me…just so you know…"

I hear the front door bang and fall to the ground, as silent tears slip down my face, staining the carpet…


	9. Chapter 9

_Hey folks!_

_So…__**I AM SO SORRY FOR LEAVING YOU GUYS HANGING! **__But in my defence, I was working from Thursday to Sunday straight so I was (and still am) wrecked! On the other hand, it's my birthday this week! I'm getting old!:)Hopefully this has been worth the wait!_

_Thank you, kind readers of my nonsense…__**everlasting1286, fistfulofhearts,Katandwyagar,**_

_**Hotcoals, Peenissmeldeen,Beekay111, ashleyBB88, CrazyFuinnja, **_

_**Jessibel5, Jen0318, Sail'em244, Phatty177 **__and to__** jlhumph **__for your Alerts/ Flags!_

_Special thanks to my constant team of reviewers, you guys are the shizz!_

_**Hotcoals, EdwardxLoverx3, peetame, everlasting1286, jlhumph, Destined627, complicatedness, justcuz123, teampeeta4ever, **__and__** kismet4891 **__for your kind and encouraging reviews :)_

_Hats off to __**Complicatedness**__ who was the __**68**__**th**__ reviewer! You're one shot will be up soon!_

_**Justcuz123**__….You get one too coz you're awesome!:)_

_**Be Good and Review Please…;)**_

_**SilverMistKey**__… Best of luck in Disneyland Paris my friend! Love you!_

* * *

The tears continue to roll down my face, silently hitting the pillow as realisation washes over me at the altercation between us… She's sorry for what happened in the Arena. Is that genuine? Is it even real or just more mind games to use for the Victory Tour? Fuck, how did my feelings get so muddled? I guess that kiss did nothing to help sort out our screwed up relationship, if we even have a relationship… perhaps in the most warped and distorted of ways.

I had known that I was upset and angry at her, yet some kind of primal lust or desire flared up inside of me too when the shouting had ceased. When her chest heaved, trying to drag air back down into her lungs, her breasts brushed ever so slightly against my chest. That was the moment that my crotch and my brain swapped places and I showed her the extent of my hurt. But it was more than that. It was want. Want for her to feel the taste of her own medicine. Want to have her tremble against me, to catch her completely off guard, without letting her have a choice or option. Want to do exactly to her what she had done to me in the Games. To make her understand the magnitude of frustration, anger and boiling rage that she had inflicted upon me. Except now I've just left myself even more confused, although far less tempted to harm her.

She knows about Madge too…I don't know which feeling is superior, the intense shame that Katniss made me feel when we were shouting, or the distrust shown by Haymitch by blabbing to her about my carnal activities. The girl didn't give a shit if I was dead or alive when we came back to District Twelve, never mind if I was sleeping with or involved with someone else. Besides…I don't believe that nothing happened with Hawthorne. Maybe she didn't try anything on, but if he's anything like me, I'd be pretty pissed. If our roles had been replaced in the Games I know that I'd have castrated him by now for getting involved with my girl. There's still so many questions and thoughts that need to be answered, possibilities and reactions that need exploring. Can I lie for the sake of the Rebellion? For the sake of my family? For Katniss? For myself even? Of course she can, she's a professional in that area, Prim, her mother and Gale all stand to die if she doesn't.

Even with the window open, the night is still humid and my body involuntarily reacts, leaving my sheets clammy in sweat. Frustration and hunger makes me get up and saunter down to the kitchen, regardless that it's half two in the morning. I'll have to wait for the next shipment of vodka comes in by train to replenish the bottle in my bedroom. I grab a plate from the cupboard and settle for a sandwich, my feet creeping quietly along the floor as not to disturb or upset the neighbours or my family. I open the front door slightly and slip to the loveseat the doubles as a swing on the porch.

Then I hear the usual screams from the Everdeen's house. From the top window on the second floor. Katniss' room. A flutter of startled mockingjays flee from the surrounding trees; the beating of wings dominating the sound of crickets and other nocturnal creatures as she fights her memories. It's painful to listen to, but at the same time, oddly gratifying that she too shares the night tremors that haunt us. Sadistic perhaps, but isn't leading someone on and then cutting them loose at the final second just as bad? I'm conflicted on the complex subject that is Everdeen as I take a bite out of the sandwich, my head resting on one end of the swing seat whilst my feet hang off the other. My train of thought is broken when I see her before me, standing in shorts and a shirt, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders; her hair wild and clinging to her face with sweat. I sit up immediately, my legs swinging off and onto the ground.

"Katniss…It's late…"

I can see her eyes; huge and welling up with tears in the moonlight as she splutters.

"Peeta…"

Without conscious control, the need to make the demons go away overcomes me and I find myself closing her in my arms tightly, before slowly sitting the pair of us down on the loveseat, rocking us to and fro. Her head sneaks under my jaw, and my anger doesn't rear its ugly head for a change. Instead it's replaced with the need to protect her, to shield her away from the memories of the past, from the Arena, from the Hunger Games and from the Capitol itself. She sobs and splutters about some incoherent dreams involving Rue and Thresh, but my eyes continue to stare at the spot on the ground, holding her tighter to my chest, her tears staining my skin.

"Katniss... Why are you here?"

Her answer stood between her forgiveness and my intense jealousy and hatred of her relationship with Gale.

"I… I guess I know that you're the only one who understands this…who sort of understands me, Peeta… who I am now, that is… I'm not the same anymore"

"Is that the only reason?"

My words hang in the air, soft, as if I was speaking to a child.

Her eyes stare into mine for a while before replying, slowly.

"What…?"

"Are you telling me this because what you say is genuine or because you need someone right now…?"

She stares at me, blankly, lost.

"Is it just because I live here and you know that I don't sleep, or is it because Gale lives on the other side of town?"

My voice has undertones of anger in it, and she shifts in my lap to look deep into my eyes.

"It's because you understand me, Peeta. You and you alone understand what happened in those Games, not Gale or anyone else. And for that, whether you like it or not, we do have some sort of bond, and will probably always have, regardless of how we feel about each other, regardless if you still hate me for what I did…"

Her lips press against mine lightly, testing if this is too much after the game of rough and tumble that we played earlier. This is too much. I can't function with her sitting on me, her hands in my hair; I'm practically bulging through my pyjamas. I pull away first, restraining her from my face, forcing her to concentrate to what I have to say.

"You can't do that Katniss. You can't act all scared and then expect me to comfort and kiss it all away whenever you feel like it…It's not healthy, for this relationship, or whatever we have…that and my mind is already screwed up enough trying to figure out you're motives that I can't let myself slip whenever I'm around you…"

An idea from earlier today pops into my head.

"You asked if I could try…I will. But only if we start learning each other again… Not just being with each other for the cameras or whenever you need comforting and that man beast Hawthorne isn't around…"

She erupts into a fit of giggles, her laughter tickling the skin of my chest.

"Man beast Hawthorne? Really Peeta?"

I grab her chin and roughly pull it up to meet my eyes, her laughter dies abruptly.

"THIS IS SERIOUS! DO YOU WANT ME TO TRY OR NOT?"

Her eyes are heavy again.

"I'm sorry…I do, I do want to try again…"

"We're gonna start off slowly… no kissing or anything else until we're both ready…"

She nods, but now I'm the one who sounds unsure, my voice is shaky as the words escape my mouth.

"Can I ask one thing?"

"Sure"

"Can I stay here… with you that is?"

I've won the battle tonight, and perhaps she deserves a concession for actually listening to me.

"Just for tonight. Tomorrow the trying begins, understood?"

She beams back at me and I twist us so that both our legs tangle together at the opposite end of the loveseat, her head on my chest, my arms around her back, hearing the gently hum of her breathing vibrate against my skin. She makes sure that we're both fully covered by the blanket before closing her eyes. My own close after a while and I sleep sounder than I have in a long time.


	10. Chapter 10

_Hey:) _

_Thanks to __**Als909, Ifakeoutl,**_ _**darkfallenangel666,**__**fiercelipstick, **__**readface, toseproeskitforever, Lenaii, BleedtoLoveHer, Webby955, Eeyorebcb, CuriousLittleMind, , fistfulofhearts, .m, janeeyre54, Ro Nordmann, katandwygar **__and __**mizzrun**__ for Alerting/ Subscribing to this story! _

_Also to__** Anonymous, EdwardxLoverx3, Jeno318, Kaya, everlasting1286, jlhumph,anonymous, anonymous, anonymous, comlicatedness, anonymous, annarosen, YouSaid-Always, ashleyBB88, anonymous**__ and to __**kismet4891**__ for your encouraging and kind reviews!_

_92 views? Wow! Thank you all for your interest and encouragement, you have no idea the effect that it has upon a writer! I would also like to say that this story can now be found on tumblr at __**www dot everlarkrecs dot tumblr**__**dot com**__! Thanks to __**fistfulofhearts **__for that! Also, I'm happy that people read and enjoyed the oneshot! I'm thinking that I may just write a Katniss version of this story, just so y'all can see how my head works from both sides of the same coin. _

_As always, I apologise for any waiting. _

_**SilverMistKey**__… "Little darling, it's been a long and lonely winter…but here comes the sun, here comes the sun and I say, it's alright…:)"_

_**Love it? Leave a review:)**_

_**Hate it? Leave a review:)**_

* * *

"Oh! How adorable!"

My eyes flash open at the shrill voice that pierces the morning air. Katniss stirs in my arms, her head on my chest, hair tangled, legs knotted through mine beneath the blanket. It can't be more than ten o' clock in the morning, and already, Effie Trinket is in one of her gloriously frilly, over the top creations.

Groggily, I greet her.

"Morning, Effie"

"Hello dear boy! Good to see you! Oh…"

She looks down at Katniss sleeping soundly on my chest, her breath humming through my shirt. Effie's mouth warps into what I recognise as a smile, kind and broad before leaning down and tucking a strand of wispy brown behind her ear.

"She's so peaceful when she sleeps… a far better look than that scowl she usually sports. She's lucky to have you, Peeta… you're both so lucky to have each other"

The weight of Effie's words hits me and I remember that she and the rest of the world still assumes that Katniss and I are 'the star crossed lovers from District Twelve'. The pressure to come up with some sort of tangible response to her comment hits me; it needs to be something that doesn't feel forced or practiced. My thumb strokes Katniss' face as her nose burrows a little further into my chest.

"It's not easy, Effie… we're both different, we're both… changed from the people we once were…its put strain on us both, what with the memories and the nightmares…"

Effie looks at me intently for a few moments, her purple hat sitting lopsidedly atop her head before whispering timidly.

"Peeta…You really are such a gentleman…she has no idea…Now! We really must crack on with the preparations for the Victory Tour in a few days! I'll be inside, discussing things with Haymitch, and the prep teams inside, so you have half an hour before the camera crews arrive, dear boy! I just can't get over how adorable you two are together!"

My teeth protrude into a forced smile as Effie leaves us, the syrupy sweetness of her presence fast disappearing from our scene. A light breeze ruffles through my hair, a pleasant change from the sticky humidity of last night. There is nothing but the sounds of the forest, occasionally broken by the odd Mockingjay that flitters from tree to tree. I lean down to her ear, barely making a sound; my breathing calm, silent even.

"You might be able to fool that walking candy cane, but I know you're awake…"

A deep groggy groan comes from the bottom of her throat; her face turns flat into my chest and I smile, knowing I'm right.

"God, she's awfully annoying, I'd forgotten how gooey eyed she is"

She lifts her head so that her eyes meet mine, bits of sleep caked in her tear ducts, before she continues.

"I mean, anyone can see from this scene right here that I don't like you and that I'm not into boys at all"

She smiles, and I can't resist messing with her when she's playful, partially because I did say that I would try, and this qualifies as trying. Still, it doesn't mean that I can't take the piss out of her.

"And I'm clearly gay…I mean, look, do you really think I'd waste all this on you?"

I clench my arms so that my biceps pop up, the muscles rock hard from lifting flour and carting Haymitch home whenever he falls asleep in my house.

A look of mock horror crosses her face, before her smile is there again. And it feels good. So unexplainably good that the corners of my mouth perk up like hers. How long has it been since I smiled? Not the fake ones that I gave Effie or Madge or even Delly; this for the first genuine time, in a long time, is a real smile. Its how I used to smile before life got…complicated.

"Trying?"

It's a question, she's curious if it's a mind game or not.

"Trying"

My tone is affirmative, assuring; because it's not a mind game, it's not a charade, it's real and the wound is still raw, but it's worth it.

"Peeta… there are … things that …I need to know… not now… but in time…"

Blonde hair and lipstick covered sheets springs to mind. That is something that I never want to relive again. Not that I regretted it…that much. In time, she'll understand about it all.

"In time"

And it's an unspoken accord that I will explain to her why it happened. Why I had wished it were with her rather than Undersee. But there are still things I need to know, things that we both need to find out about each other, about ourselves before we can talk about …that.

Cinna and Portia arrive in front of us, the prep teams in the background, eyeing us vigorously, like hungry dogs eyeing up a wounded lamb. The idea that we will have to continue this conversation later strikes as Katniss is escorted over to her house with Cinna.

"Later?"

And it's more than a question. Its hope and it's a glimmer that this, relationship, or whatever this is exactly is worth saving.

Her eyes look up, ignited with the thought, before replying cheerfully

"Later"

Smiles are everywhere as we walk away, the stylists and prep teams swooning us into separate houses.


	11. Chapter 11

_Hey!:)_

_Okay so this is a really long chapter for me! I hope it's worth it and makes people happy! _

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* * *

"Ooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww! Fuck, Portia!

Apparently, she's "tidying up" my eyebrows, but her tweezers catching the skin of my eyelid causing a long howl to escape from my mouth. I know she doesn't mean to, I know that it's an accident, but after an hour and a half of preening and plucking, I'm tired and sore from blood and hair loss. And my teeth hurt from the bleach and ultra violet rays that claim to "make for a dazzling smile".

Portia grunts, her own eyebrows knitted together, concentration furrowed on her brow, whilst a member of the prep team begins to snip at my hair, the long curls falling to the floor below. Goodbye Labrador hair.

"Just hold still Peeta! The more you fidget, the harder it is to get this right!"

"Sorry…"

My voice is low and apologetic, and she looks at me with a light smile, her eyes light and knowing; I'm forgiven for complaining.

Even with the flat end of the tweezers plucking away, I have to remember that I still have the better end of the deal when it comes to being prepped for the cameras. Katniss told me that they had removed all the hair from her legs, underarms and other places for the Games. Half an hour passes before I'm showed my reflection in a mirror. Portia smiles over my shoulder, proud of her handiwork as my eyes scan what is now my face.

"I'm sure a certain girl will notice what a dapper, young gentleman staring back at you, Peeta… even if you don't know who he is yet…"

Wow. I'm not too bothered over my looks, I'm not that vain. But I do look good…really good. My jaw is clean-shaven, all traces of stubble or facial hair is gone. Although my curls are gone, short hair suits me too, my sideburns at mid ear level, neat and tidy with the short back and sides. Fuck, even my eyes are twinkling more than usual, deep sapphire blue adding some soul to the shell of Peeta Mellark.

Portia dismisses me from the chair where I'm held captive and I slip to my room where a new suit is laid out across the bed. It's a mix of olive and grey, with a white shirt and a simple black tie. At the foot of the bed is a new pair of shiny, black leather lace up shoes, polished so well that I can practically see my face in the toes of them. I change quickly, throwing the old pyjama bottoms and t shirt to the floor, catching a glimpse of myself in the floor length mirror beside my closet.

"There you are, Mr Mellark!"

I imitate Caesar Flickerman's superior and condemning voice, and I'm instantly brought back to the Capitol on the night of the interviews. It was the first time that I wore a proper suit; elegant and refined, fitting me well in the chest and the plains of my back. The crowd, the smell of roses, Katniss' dress, my confession… That was real; I knew that the plan was to keep her alive, based on my confession to Caesar. I quickly shrug that feeling, whatever it is, away into the back of my mind for now, admiring myself one last time before I go over to the Everdeen's house.

My eyes sadden a little; all this hate, this brimming emotion that's been swelling in my body has resonated into nothing but tiredness and regret. And yet it feels wrong to let myself try again with Katniss, to leave myself so open to attack when now I've been given the weapons to wound her with. I've shaken off the 'innocent, loved up' Peeta and have become a harsher, more brutal person, but it doesn't sit right with me. Nothing sits right with me as my feet climb the steps to her front porch, slowing down for a minute to get my thoughts in check before going in.

I'm Peeta Mellark, joint winner of the 74th Hunger Games. I've loved Katniss Everdeen, (the girl who also won the Hunger Games with me) since I was five years old. I nearly died, and I lost my leg. Katniss saved me. She lied about loving me. She used the romance to get food and survive. I believed that she loved me. She didn't. I hated her for it. I hated her so much that tried to forget her with alcohol. I tried to forget her when I slept with Madge Undersee to see if I could feel anything for anyone else. Turns out that I can't. The Victory Tour is coming in a matter of days. I said that I'd try to rebuild our relationship, but I don't know if I can let her in, knowing that she's already hurt me once before. But the question of how I feel about her now is still confusing me, I can't find the words to say it.

I turn the handle and take a deep breath. Mrs Everdeen greats me and ushers me into the kitchen, food and drink are placed on the table as I sit down.

"Mom!...Will you make me a sandwich or something please? Cinna won't let me move in this dress!"

Mrs Everdeen looks angrily from the washing up to look at me, a smile forming on her mouth.

"Peeta…would you mind? I'm just busy at the moment"

"Sure, no problem"

I get up, filling a plate to take to Katniss. The sight of her makes my jaw come undone. She stands on a podium, a long topaz coloured dress that nips in at the waist and splays out a little at the hip, the hem line hitting her just above the knee. She doesn't notice me as I creep in; Cinna is behind her, altering a strap on her shoulder.

"We're gonna have to let this out a bit in the bust Katniss, you've grown since last time"

"ARE YOU CALLING ME FAT?"

Cinna's eyes positively widen with horror as she stares at him. He knows better than to answer that question. We both do.

"NO! I'm merely saying that with the improvements in your diet, you're finally filling out like a lady. Even your hips…there five inches bigger than when you came back from the Arena. A size 10- 12 is perfectly decent and normal for a 17 year old girl. You've got curves in all the right places, is what I'm saying, Sweetheart… Besides, a man likes a curvaceous woman…it's like a biological impulse for us"

Cinna's eyes catch mine and he winks at me, causing the corners of my mouth to curl as I move into the room.

"You're right about that, Cinna"

Taking full advantage of her plea for me to try, I rest my hand on Katniss' lower back before squeezing her backside as I hold the plate out for her. She bends down and politely pecks me on the cheek, before slapping me away playfully. Her eyes are killing me now with a death stare, but deep down she's grinning at how good we are at acting, and maybe she liked me touching her again…maybe.

"You noticed, Peeta?"

"Sweetheart….it's a bit hard not to when I'm around you all the time…A man can only dream..."

Cinna smiles mischievously at me as Katniss continues to give me evils while she eats.

After twenty minutes of altercations, Cinna finally leaves us alone in the small room. Carefully stepping down and cautiously lifting the skirt of her dress, Katniss sits down on the small sofa at the opposite side of the room. The silence between us is short lived as she sits arms crossed, eyes playful and pensive.

"So…"

I lean back, waiting for her to speak, hoping that she isn't going to castrate me for that stunt I pulled earlier.

"Cinna told me that the cameras will want an interview from the both of us in a couple of hours…that gives us time to talk about how we're going to pull this off…have you got any ideas?"

I remember that in the Capitol, they had interviewed us as if we were the two luckiest people in the world, having escaped the Arena with the person we 'loved'. Apart from last night and that shouting match encounter, we haven't really talked or even touched each other. That was too much, but the realisation that rebellion will spark if we don't convince Snow or the other districts crosses my mind.

"I have an idea"

Hobbling over to where she is, I sit beside her.

"How about we practice…sitting like this, I mean…and if you're lucky, I might even hold your hand" I add sarcastically, grinning.

"So that's how it works? If I'm lucky I can hold your hand, yet you have unspoken permission to grab my ass anytime you feel like it? Yeah right, Mellark, coz THAT'S such an even trade off!"

"You totally loved it"

A look of pretended anger crosses her face, causing lines on her forehead to form.

"So that's how it's going to be, is it, Everdeen?"

My hand drapes slowly around her shoulders, testing the waters for both of our reactions. It always seems so much more difficult when I'm working it out in my head. But this seems to be alright for both of us. Her voice is quiet, cautious.

"Would it be alright if I did this?"

Her head nestles into the crook of my neck, the warm air of her breath tickling my skin. It takes some adjusting, as if we're both badly oiled robots that have rusted in the rain, but it gradually becomes more pliable, more comfortable. I can feel her smiling as she breathes me in, before my other arm sneaks around, searching. Now it's time to scare her… just as payback for the ass grabbing comment. I did enjoy myself though; it'd been so long since I'd actually touched her, no spark of electricity or any poetic, flowery shit, but real touching, real feeling. My hand finds her thigh and in one swift movement I pull her so that she sits in my lap, slightly turned so that she isn't putting pressure on my dodgy leg. There's a faint squeak and a shrill of protest as I lift her, but it's in vain. Her eyes are poised to kill, looking into mine, my smile crooked before my other hand clamps down on her backside, grabbing it firmly. Her eyes widen, before leaning up into my ear, her eyes lashes tickling me.

"Judging by the way your hand hasn't left, I'd say that you love this too, Mellark"

I can hear the sarcasm, dripping from her words.

"Also…is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just really, really pleased to feel me again?"

The colour flushes from my face as she turns around so that her backside brushes lightly against the increasing bulge in my pants as she rises.

"Well as much as I've enjoyed this, I need to find Prim. If you want to continue "practicing" later, come find me…who knows, you might get lucky next time, Peeta…I might even let you "hold my hand" again"

She winks at me with a grin before disappearing out the door, leaving me even more dazed and confused than usual. Whatever happened in the Arena was nothing compared to the dangerous game that is a woman's mind, especially one as complicated and intricate as Katniss Everdeen.


	12. Chapter 12

_Hey:)_

_Work is my downfall…_

_That and my dog was put down on Tuesday:(_

_So I'm sorry for not updating sooner._

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_**SilverMistKey…Nom:)**_

* * *

The wait is what really kills us. I can feel the beads of sweat gather on my forehead from the heat of the lights on us; even under the vast amount of orange gunk that covers my face. The corner of her eye twists to look into mine and I know that she feels the undercurrent of tension beneath all of the shrill and jolly pretences of the Capitol's film crew and of Caesar Flickerman. I feel her hand twitch and press into mine, her nails lightly brushing the hair on the back of my hand. I will hold her, even if we are this screwed up item, unknowing if we can trust one another and bound by this insatiable need to keep the other alive, regardless of circumstance. I won't deny her the closeness; partially because I need her close to keep me together too.

"Welcome to the long awaited interview from this year's winners of the 74th Annual Hunger Games, Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen!"

The lump in my throat doesn't go away when I swallow hard, a smile forced on my face. Haymitch sits behind the camera crew, watching us intently, and his eyes studying our actions. I pull Katniss closer to me, knowing how much she hates cameras; and then realisation hits me. This is an involuntary action; it's not out of any malice or fakery, but a fundamental need to encompass her the way I did last night on the front porch. My fingers find her pulse; it's ricocheting like a pinball machine through my skin.

Caesar's white teeth are blinding as he smiles at us, the smell of roses radiates off of him.

"So! Everyone is very excited at the upcoming Victory Tour! But first of all, how have the pair of you been coping with the lifestyle of a Victor? The glory, the grandeur, the fame of it all!"

He stares at Katniss, who has turned a very violent shade of pink, her thoughts practically echoing around my head.

I take the hit for her and start bullshitting my way through Caesar's questions.

"Well it's certainly been an interesting couple of months, Caesar. I think I speak for both of us when I say that both of our lives have changed greatly"

I look to Katniss, and lower my lips to her enclosed hand to kiss her knuckle; my eyes pleading with hers to help me pull this off convincingly. Katniss takes the hint and her body shifts so that her feet are on the couch; her hand clutches mine again as my mouth pulls away from her. She leans her head towards mine, her lips planting a soft kiss at the corner of my eyelid, before nestling her head on my chest, similar to the way we slept last night. Her eyes never leave mine; locked in this epic battle, and then it's as if my body separates itself from any conscious control of my brain and my lips touch her forehead. Not out of pretence. Not for my own gratification. Not for the Capitol. Not for Snow or anyone else, except for her. To show her that I care, that I want us to truly work this knot out of our … relationship.

"That's so cute! So, Katniss…"

He looks from me to her, his thick lidded eyes sporting heavily lined make up and fuzzy caterpillar like eyelashes.

"…I know we discussed this, six months ago after the Games, but how does it feel to fall in love in such a dangerous environment, with a fellow tribute nonetheless?"

Haymitch's eyes flare up, the whites showing as he tries to help her. She stiffens in my arms, her fingers squeezing my hand, the knuckles white.

"I suppose… it was quite dangerous…I didn't know if Peeta was being genuine…or if…"

She sucks a deep breath into her lungs and exhales; my lips pressed to her hair.

"…or if he would use it as a strategy against me in the Arena…"

The truth of the words hangs in the air. If only people knew the true story…

"But since the cave and all the history that goes with it that must have been the foundations for such a strong and close relationship between the two of you…I can't imagine how you two must confide and rely on each other after such an ordeal…"

My head nods slightly as Katniss fidgets to get comfortable again.

"…Especially at the end, when it was announced that there could only be one victor…that must have been painful beyond recognition, eh Katniss?"

My eyes tighten at the snarky look on Caesar's face, then it hits me; he knows. He knows exactly why Katniss pulled the berries out. Because she didn't want to be a part in their games, as I didn't want them to change me into something that I wasn't. They didn't, but Katniss had, perhaps unintentionally in order to keep me alive, but it had happened all the same.

Haymitch looks fit to burst with violent rage; he's pissed that the blue haired asshole is directing all the heat on Katniss. She rises from my chest, her eyes deep and glassy as she stares into mine, her voice watery weak.

"You have no idea… I was going to lose him…I was going to lose the boy who had saved me all those years ago…"

And that's the moment that it suddenly becomes too much for just an interview…Is it the truth? She blinks hard and tears plop down her cheeks; as Caesar looks at me, malcontent splayed on his face. The bastard is relishing in this. My arms encircle her, her head pressed under my chin as I pull her to sit in my lap as before. And the hate is there; it's raw and vivid and full of fury, swelling inside of me.

"Of course it was…"

His tone is condescending, and it angers me.

"OF COURSE IT'S FUCKING REAL! SHE NEARLY DIED WHEN WE WERE ELEVEN YOU BLUE HAIRDED TWAT! I SAVED HER! I WAS THERE! SHE WOULD'VE DIED OTHERWISE, NO THANKS TO THE GREED AND NEGLECT OF THE CAPITOL!"

Caesar's eyes widen at an alarming rate as my face contorts into a snarl, my arms rocking a silent Katniss back and forth as her tears stain my shirt. Haymitch smiles at me, giving me his approving thumbs up, similar to the way he had admired Katniss' balls in the individual training.

"CUT! THANK FUCK THIS ISN'T LIVE!"

The camera crew's director shouts, his eyes locked with mine. I sit both Katniss and myself up and stare coldly at the little man; I could crush him in my sleep. He seems to notice as I stand up beside him, worry spreading across his face. I'm not in the fucking mood for any of this shit. Katniss stares at me, her face black from that crap that exaggerates her eyes. I lift her into my arms, ignoring the gasps and angry whispers from the camera crew and from Caesar. Haymitch pats me on the back as I walk past the fluffy, expensive furniture that makes my living room unrecognisable, kicking a chair out of my way in the process.

"Go take her upstairs, I'll get this lot out and into mine so that you two can get some peace for tonight"

Katniss is a comfortable weight in my arms as I haul us up the stairs, kicking my bedroom door open wide as we pass through. I slip her down onto my bed; the lamp that sits on top of my bedside locker, the hidden vodka bottle full, but untouched in the past few days.

"Thank you …Peeta, thank you"

Her eyes are semi closed; tired. She's still in that topaz dress and there's smudged mascara stains on her face, ones that mirror my shirt.

"Here, put these on. I won't look"

I toss her an old shirt and a pair of shorts from my chest of drawers and I stare at the floor as I take off my jacket and shirt, walking around topless in search of the pyjamas that I had left on the ground earlier.

I don't mean to turn around, I really don't. But for a quick second, I do as she climbs back into bed, a mess of tired, scarred limbs and curly dark hair, still tangled in that up do that the prep team created. I make my way to the bathroom and finish dressing, leaving the pants, shoes and belt on the floor. I walk carefully over to Katniss, sitting beside her on the bed. Her eyes are closed, but underneath all the make-up, she still looks alien and foreign. The cloth in my hand is warm as I carefully remove all the orange crap from her face, seeing her natural colour peek through.

"That's better"

The back of my hand runs from her eyelids down to the side of her mouth. Her eyes open and she catches me off my guard as her fingers close around my hand.

"Peeta?"

And after everything that has happened, all the shit that has gone down in my life, I give into what I want; what my body is telling me to do.

This kiss is brief, but its tender and sweet, a melancholic reminder of past kisses in the Arena.

But then, the guard that I've been building comes back up again.

"Give me one good reason why I should trust either of us like this"

She lies back down, her hair tumbling onto the pillow; her pupils swollen and fat, her hand strokes my jaw.

"I can't…Not when there's not much good in me. I can't make you love me, or trust me enough to love me one day. And even then…"

She leans up and our lips touch again, firmer this time, but still chaste in the silence around us.

"Stay with me?" she asks, her eyes slipping from my view, as sleep claims her from me.

She never lets go of my hand.

"Always"

She slips away as I turn off the light and crawl in beside her.


	13. Chapter 13

_So I haven't updated in AGES! And it KILLED me!_

_But…I did get to look at some fantastic eye candy at work…one certain blue eyed dirty blonde guy who reminded me of some fictional character…;)_

_Thank you! __**ashleystar666, booklover0791,Patrycja444d, rosiekatira24, Sabine Christensen, critique-THG, BriaMellarkKnight, Shawnyafontenot, .54, Tink2, Lee Everdeen, Roborams, Jloralambrecht, HungerGamesAddict3, ChannelBibi, jdm13, amaskuponthesky, Helena Malfoy**__ and __**Hunger4Books **__for your Alerts!_

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_**YouSaid-Always**__…Love the new stuff, hope your holiday was nice and there weren't too many sheep around:)_

_**SilverMistKey**__…MAN OF STEEL!_

* * *

The night is peaceful for a change, with no nightmares of muttations or fallen tributes seeping their way into my memory.

Maybe I didn't want to be alone tonight.

Maybe she needs me, or I need her. Either way, Katniss Everdeen and I are in bed together and she doesn't feel as strange and foreign as I had anticipated from the previous night on the love seat. There's still something about this that I don't trust though; that little voice in the back of my head pleading with me to flee from this scenario.

Maybe it's the memory of the last time I had a girl in my bed and how eventful that went. Because in the dark I did my worst. Instead of someone that actually mattered. Because I was angry at her. And now, just as there's a little bit of love growing for her, clashing with a little bit of hate.

All these thoughts are running circles in my head whilst she sleeps soundly; a light snore escaping from her mouth as she exhales. I tense a little feeling her arm twist over my chest as she stirs underneath the covers, her smooth, toned legs brushing against mine, as she fully rolls onto me; her head in the crook of my neck, her arms encircling me. Shit. The unconscious decision by her is causing me to pitch a tent, my cheeks flooding red and my eyes dart to the ceiling in humiliation.

"Mmmm…Peeta…"

It's a long groan that erupts from her mouth, her eyes still closed as her breath tickles my neck and ear, not helping in 'calming' the situation beneath the covers.

"Katniss?"

Her eyes open gradually, bits of yellow sleep flaking from her eyelids. She turns a very violent shade of pink when she realises that we're wrapped around each other and the effect that it's having on my…on me. Steely eyes look deep into mine for what seems like forever.

Her mouth crashes against mine before I recognise the sensation. My eyes fly open at the feel of her mouth against mine. There's something in the way that the fibres and nerves in my lips seems to pulse under the pressure and warmth of hers. There's nothing like that flowery shit that everyone else describes when they're in love. Except I'm not in love…no, I'm definitely not in love. No….definitely not. Shit…am I? My breath catches in my throat as she straddles my lap, her fingers knotting in my hair as her lip jerks mine back; the action causing an aching twitch in my balls to spread to my stomach. Damn teasing woman. Damn needy me.

"Katniss?"

"I'm just letting you know"

"Know what, exactly?"

"Know that…I am here, Peeta. I'm not going anywhere this time"

"I don't want you like that, Katniss"

Hurt immediately spreads across her face at my words, her hands falling away from my chest as she slides off of me.

"C'mon, I don't mean like that!"

I try to lightly grab her upper arm to gain her focus, but she shifts so that she sits upright, facing me, rage flaming across her face.

"WELL WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!"

"CALM THE FUCK DOWN! DO YOU WANNA WAKE EVERYONE UP?!"

Talk about passion, she can't keep her head for five seconds without having her tongue shoved halfway down my throat in an epic tonsil hockey match.

"WHY ARE YOU BEING LIKE THIS? I THOUGHT YOU SAID THAT YOU'D TRY?!"

That's a cheap shot. Fuck the kiss. Fuck the interview. Fuck it all. Anything that had been achieved in the past few days has been torn down viciously in this endurance race of stichomythia.

"I AM TRYING. BUT IT'S FUCKING DIFFICULT TO WHEN YOU'RE POUNCING ON ME LIKE A NYMPHOMANIC!"

Her mouth forms a little "o" shape as my words sink in to that obviously dense skull of hers.

"OH THAT'S RICH! I'M THE NYMPHO BECAUSE I BEDDED MADGE UNDERSEE?! OH I'M THE TOTAL SEX ADDICT HERE PEETA!"

There are daggers in her voice, dangerous and threatening to kill; mirroring the translucent depths of her eyes. The knot in my chest is increasing the tightness, the urge to either hit her or scream is building to a creshendo.

"OH OF COURSE! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME, KATNISS?! DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW WHY I SLEPT WITH HER?! DO YOU?!"

My throat is hoarse and raw from the hushed shouting; the vessels in my neck protruding beneath the faint pattern of freckled flesh. Her eyes look intently into mine, the spotlight placed firmly on me. My respiratory system recovers and the knot dissolves slightly. But only just.

"….I guess…I guess I just wanted to feel…pretend even…"

C'mon, get it out; give it to the bitch straight.

"You used me in the worst possible way, Katniss…do you still not see? For me, it was real. Real. I… I meant when I said that I had loved you since we were five years old… And in the worst and probably cruellest twist of fate, you and I get caught up in a death match for the sake of Capitol entertainment… I knew we could've died…"

Her eyes are soft, the rage in them quelling out.

"…So for once in my sorry life, I actually got myself together and told you what I had wanted to say ever since that day in the rain. Every day since then, I'd just assumed that you and Hawthorne were practically married, so that's why I didn't tell you until the opportunity came…It was just the most unfortunate of times, sadly…"

She looks down at her hands in her lap, before looking back at me, processing this new information.

"And then we both survived…and more importantly…I had you. What was the worst was that I thought you felt the same…and then it was just part of the charade…"

I can feel myself slipping; despair moving through me like a wave. My hand weaves through my hair, trying to stay together, although I'm crumbling.

"…after that, I contemplated everything, anything just to see if I wasn't as broken as I thought I was. To see if perhaps I could be who I once was. I knew that you didn't feel the same…but maybe someone else would like me for who I am now…To see if I could feel anything for another girl…and Madge…Madge made it easy at the time…but I was still…

The realisation hits me. I'd been hiding it from everyone, from her, from Haymitch, even from myself; it'd taken this long for me to uncover it and actually confess how I really feel.

"Still empty inside… I guess I was still screwed up over you and no one else could take away all this emotional bullshit away from me..."

I prop myself off the bed, feeling the carpet between my toes before looking at her one last time.

"So forgive me if having sex with you isn't number one on my priorities list right now, Katniss, but when I say that I'm trying, I'm not screwing with you...It's not just something fun to do when it comes to you; I want it to matter, that is if we ever sort this shit heap of a relationship out …"

Her eyes meet mine one last time before I walk out the door; leaving her in the wake of destruction that seems to shadow me constantly these days.


	14. Chapter 14

_Folks,_

_I was away on holiday and working, as per usual. Sorry for the delay._

_Can someone please tell me the point of communities and forums on this? And what is AO3?_

_As always, thanks you for your alerts, reviews and encouragement: __**kismet4891,**__** rosiekatira24, booklover0791, gpalomob, akaKatherineJoy, ScarlettDancers, Mirage Rules, JFCP, DeezNuts51, DearRonWeasley31, zotic14, MXC, sintRizzie, **_

_**Jloralambrecht, Oteaoni, alicek828,GeminiGirl131,Katandwyagar,SlytherinSarah7,Pinkie8,Fallindecember, justcuz123,MissPerceived,OakAndCypress,rebelwithacamera88,everlasting1286,THGfan12, cttl234,gwood, Trisbriel, kaya17tj, deep in the meadow1spencer2345,Space-Cadet13,PM Addict, HelenaMalfoy,Multibodoke,Emilyeliseanne,Pokips, Azami-san, clarebearcowley, janeeyre54,Peetame, annarosen, Jlhumph, ohsoPeeta, ashleystar666, Daviana Roze, Maesie Macabre,saranghae25,iisaninjette,svbristow, KatLoudMouth, FoveverInLove, carocullenmasen,YouSaidAlways,Amaskuponthesky, theverve51,ashleyBB88,Destined627,Roborams,Lee Everdeen**__ and __**Patrycja444d**_

_PHEW!:D_

_Hope you guys like…:)_

_Also! Thanks for reading "__**His, Mine, Ours**__" my cannon one shot. If you haven't read it…Go Read It! Lol(:_

_**SilverMistKey**__….Did you order the MJ pins? God, we're such fan girls._

* * *

Even after a night of such peaceful sleep, I feel exhausted. My body just seems to be lifeless and my mind is forever on guard, anticipating the next move. The next horrific muttation. The next pang of hunger. The next battle with another tribute. The next canon sounding. The thought of losing the Girl on Fire. Back in the Arena, I'd only had to worry about keeping her safe from the others, from the likes of Cato and Clove who sought her as a heat seeking missile does an engine. Except now, the cause that I had so highly valued; to protect myself from Katniss Everdeen's various cruelties has resulted in me being the aggressor; making me similar to Cato…even to Snow. Realisation hits me. Katniss is strong, I'm strong, but without the other we're nothing. We're just two little pawns in a bad man's game by ourselves, but together, we can defy him. We can confront the oppression. We can inspire an entire generation into full scale rebellion.

My feet sprint back to the bedroom, back to her, back to the madness that I will now face and hide from no more.

She's tangled in bedclothes, her knees pulled tightly to her chest, her hair splayed all around her. The sight makes a sudden shift in the pit of my stomach at the effect that this morning's fiasco has had on her. Without thinking, my feet carry me to her and the mess of sobbing and fragile limbs that is Katniss is cradled on my lap, my arms surrounding her; protecting her from everything. From the Capitol. From Snow. From the Arena. But no longer from me. Never again.

"You came back?" a mere audible whisper passes from her lips, so low that my ears strain to make out the rise and fall in pitch.

"I'm here… I'm here and I'm not going to fight this anymore…I can't…so I'm forgetting what happened…I understand now" I whisper, my mouth presses into her hair and I breathe in.

Because now, I truly do understand the frivolities of the situation we're in. But I also realise that Katniss isn't a brilliant liar and that her scheme in the Games was to bring me home. She had to have felt more for me than what she claims; it was more than just a tool for survival, that she cares for me, in some strange context that only an experience in the Hunger Games can explain.

"Even after…?"

She doesn't finish the sentence, which is probably best. I've no rage left in me anymore, just bitterness; something that I can't live with forever.

"Even after this morning?" I offer, trying to help her, to coax the words from her.

She looks up at me; the cruel grey eyes are red and puffy from crying. My shirt hangs lob- sided off of her shoulder, revealing the smooth expanse of skin from her neck to collarbone, before nodding her head in agreement.

"You've always known how I've felt about you, Katniss. I never tried to push you away or make you feel as if it was a bad thing…at the train station when we came home… I hated you, I hated you so much, but no matter what I did, nothing would rid you from my mind"

Her head nuzzles into my chest and I feel her hands loop around my back, tracing random patterns through my shirt as I press my lips to the crook between her neck and shoulder, watching as she breaks down and gives in to the feeling of warmth. I want her to know, that I do feel it, I'd just forgotten it, buried it in a corner under a pile of other emotions and thoughts that angered me, but it's me, I'm still here. I'm here with her, because I want to, not out of pretence or anything else other than this unknown, unexplained feeling that swells in my guts anytime that she smiles at me.

"You've gotta know that this is real, Katniss" I whisper against her skin, my nose and mouth creep up her throat, kissing her slowly, until I reach that spot behind her ear.

"Why did you want to fight me, Peeta?" she whispers, tilting her head back so that I've greater access to her skin, her fingers combing what's left of my hair.

"I just…I was hurting…real hurt…I thought that you and Gale were a real…thing" I choke, trying to keep the bile from rising in my stomach from the mention of his name.

"You looked so…lost" her voice is louder, but only because we're holding each other so close that there's no way I could miss it, even if I wanted to.

"I was…I was just a stumbling ghost, Katniss…haunting the halls of my house, unable to recognise anything that was normal to me…unable to see past anything that didn't involve hating you and trying to forget…"

She looks at me, brushing the remains of my hair out of my eyes, her body shifts so that her legs wrap around my back so that our chests are pressed fully together.

"We were caught up in this ordeal, Peeta…but you don't have to suffer anymore…If you want to be free then don't let being angry at me stop you…"

The answer slips with determination from my mouth; I've never been surer about anything in my life other than this moment right now.

"No"

Her eyes widen a little as her hand slips to my shoulder.

"Why?"

She asks in a whisper; scared, intimidated for the answer, perhaps.

Because right now, in this moment, when I held her, I knew I wasn't letting go. We stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, feeling the cathartic tension from this morning leaves the room.

"Let's take a chance, Katniss, we might lose, but at least we can still say that we tried" I say, and a small smile unintentionally creeps on my face.

"I'm never going to push you out. I'm not going to let you runaway" she promises, leaning her forehead against mine and sighing deeply.

"Never again" I promise, closing my eyes and welcoming this strange sense of calm that spreads from her body into mine as our hands press together, the fingers knotting at the knuckles.

Then that same feeling that caused me to come back overtakes me again. Perhaps we're just so battered spiritually and emotionally that the only way we know the truth is by physical means. But instead of agony, my body just comes alive at the slightest touches from her.

This kiss is passion, its danger; it's consuming and intoxicating at the same time as she climbs up my body, my back hitting the duvet hard, but not painfully. For a moment it's gentle, chaste even. Like a spark before a full blown blaze erupts from a wildfire. Her lips are against mine, meshing together, breathing the life back into me as I grip her hips harder against my own, appreciating the sweet tension of this morning and finally giving into it without consequence or second thought.

No matter how many times I taste her, feel the way he tongue lolls against mine, feel the slivery motion of our mouths colliding sweetly, this new, undiscovered hunger isn't satiated; if anything the need only continues to build more and more. I need her more than this. I need her to hold me together in the hope that one day this might not be so formalised by our circumstances and actions within the Games.

"Katniss…" I grunt at the feeling of her nails clawing the skin of my back.

Her name hangs in the air as I kiss her throat, one hand on her hip, pushing her so that she's beneath me, and I hover above her, my elbows propping me up as her hand finds my chest and I resume kissing her neck, watching how her eyes tighten and a small swoon escapes at the feel of my day old stubble rubbing abrasively against her skin.

She groans at the feel of my hands on her shirt, gently prying at it and kissing the skin underneath, noticing how bony she's become, her ribs protruding slightly as her breath comes out in short, loud, puffs before she pulls my head back to hers. Her fingers strum my hair as we kiss with wild abandon, like some animalistic urge has taken over the pair of us and nothing can stop us; not the Capitol, not the Arena, not the Games. Nothing.

A low growl slips from me as she kisses that spot on my throat that overcomes me and I'm flipped onto the bed easily as she straddles me and gasps just as I do. She brushes against the protruding bulge in my pants and I feel my desire drop immediately as embarrassment flushes my cheeks, and an uneasy, crooked smile. Katniss mirrors my reaction and moves so that we both lie on our sides, panting and staring at each other.

"Hi" she smiles, her eyes glittering, strands of her hair falling into her face.

"Hi back" I grin, twiddling the strands between my fingers.

"We still have a long way to go…before that" I say, shuddering at the thoughts of how I really shouldn't have had that encounter with Madge.

She blinks down; her lips form into a sly smile as she traces my shirt, touching the exposed bit of skin at my stomach and going further up my chest with just her fingertip, teasing me.

The thought of ripping her shirt over her head and kissing every single inch of skin causes that building feeling in my stomach and my libido is back again. What has just happened is certainly the most intimate moment that I've ever shared with anyone, but that said, we need to build up to…that again.

Katniss leans in for a kiss and very nearly touches my lips when Haymitch calls us down. Grumbling, we trundle down the stairs, hand in hand and the feeling of bliss is sublime, coursing through my veins as we enter the living room.

And then the feeling is subdued and dies instantly as we watch the television with an announcement from the Capitol.

The room goes cold.

The Quarter Quell is announced.

And we're going back in.


	15. Chapter 15

_Late as per usual._

_Girl Gotta work!_

_Love to everyone who reviews/ alerts this story._

_And now! Another chapter to be written for Stolen…probably be online by Sunday/ Monday._

_Go find me on tumblr and such! Same username as on FF._

_Thanks Everyone!_

_**SilverMistKey!**_

* * *

Ever since we saw the announcement on television, we've trained. Katniss' bow makes a welcomed return as we battle with each other in a fierce game of cat and mouse. It's a daily occurrence that takes our otherwise happy relationship into something different when we're in battle mode. I find that I'm still just as strong as I was in the previous Games, yet gradually, I'm growing more formidable, my shoulders are getting broader and bulkier and I find that lifting logs and bags of flour are getting easier to do.

Haymitch too has been training, although the effects of twenty – five years of constant drinking have taken their toll on his speed and reflexes. However, his skill with a knife is still second to none and he continues to pin me with the same repetitive moves day after day.

After a series of sparring matches with Katniss that prove to be fruitless (we either tickle the other into submission, or kisses become the ultimate weapon of choice) we decide to call it quits on the hand to hand combat. After training, we saunter back up to her house for a daily fix of stew or wild turkey that Mrs Everdeen and Prim have prepared for us.

Just as we enter the hallway, Haymitch pulls me aside into the small parlour that's used as a study area by Prim. Katniss gives my arm a squeeze as I let go of her hand. She doesn't scowl half as much these days, and I can't help but wonder if our honesty and genuine trying is the cause of her smile. For a minute, I lose myself in the thought of her, before Haymitch drags me back to reality and grabs the crook of my elbow, shoving me to sit in a chair facing him.

"Peeta…" he says, his voice even, no hint of emotion showing.

"What's this abou..?"

"Sit down"

"Peeta, I want you to listen and listen very, very carefully because I won't say it again. This type of Quarter Quell has never occurred in the seventy four years since the Games were invented. Never before has such an emphasise been put upon the victors of previous Games actually competing against one another in a greater, more extreme and elaborate set of Games. Generally, the Capitol sympathises with their victors, grows to love them in some cases…

My mind drifts immediately to Finnick Odair, the handsome bronze District Four Victor who has captivating green eyes and is apparently the most sought after bachelor in all of Panem, with many lovers vying for his affections.

"... As I said, this type of proposition has never occurred before in the history of the Games, which suggests that Snow's ultimatum is something to do with you and Everdeen's little stunt with the berries last year. You know about the upheavals in Eleven and Four, don't you?"

My expression must give it away, because he continues to speak as I stare on, dumbfounded at him.

His tone is dangerously low, as his eyes twitch around, aware that there is only so much time before Katniss or Prim calls us for dinner.

"Peeta…The Districts have been in a hushed rebellion that's been put down by the Capitol. Many of them are planning to revolt very shortly. You remember that chat we had when you were pissed with Katniss? "

I search my memories, trying to find something that's alluding to what Haymitch is saying. A rebellion, a revolution…

…_Snow believes that we've started a fire, a fire that will turn our world upside down if we do not put it out…A rebellion; uproar from the districts. And he wants Katniss and I to continue to add fuel to the fire, to spread that fire that we started in the Games…_

My head jerks up at the thought of what's happening. What's going to happen.

"Haymitch, you can't…Is it even possible?

His eyes jut back down to the ground, staring at the plush carpet before meeting mine; cold and grey and dangerous, all at the same time.

"Plutarch Heavensbee"

"Huh?! What the fuck does the head Gamemaker have to do with this?! With any of this?! If anything, he's the reason that we're going to be killed!"

My voice rises in anger at Haymitch's stupidity. What is he really going to do with the one person who will decide the manner on which we die in the Arena?

My feet begin to rise, hoisting me from the chair, but Haymitch's reflexes are quicker than anticipated and his foot smacks squarely into my chest, crushing my sternum and literally knocking the breath out of me. I sink back down, winded and sore from his assault, my attention diverted back onto him. Haymitch glares at me from underneath his scraggly mop of hair before whispering cautiously.

"He's with us Peeta…"

No. This isn't real; it doesn't make sense for someone in Plutarch's power to be on our side at a time like this. For all we know, he could be a double agent for the Capitol. A human Jabberjay for Snow to let into our midst and then feed him our plans for rebellion. This can't be real…Can it?

"That can't be right! He's Head Gamemaker! He's sending us to our deaths, not trying to piss off Snow!"

"BOY!" Haymitch barks, clearly antagonised with my continued pandering nonsense.

"Now, you listen. And listen real, real good. Plutarch has been an undercover agent for the rebellion for years. He was part of an undercover stake out and infiltrate mission for the past seven years in order to gain the contacts and trust within the Capitol, thus allowing him to gain authority within the higher orders and with Snow himself…Don't you get it, Peeta? We've been aching for an opportunity like this to come for so long. And now that the Quell is underway in a matter of months and with the victors of every District involved, the time is finally right to make a stand against Snow. You and Katniss were the spark that was needed to set the ball rolling. And now, Snow wants blood and retribution for the pair of you coming out alive, but more so for showing him up. Peeta… This could be the only shot we have at tearing down the oppression. The only attempt to bring down the Capitol, to finally end the Hunger Games, and eventually to bring back equality and democracy to all of Panem"

My mouth hangs open in shock and in awe of Haymitch. Brilliant, clever and cunning Haymitch, the man who also defied the Capitol in the Second Quarter Quell when he used the invisible force field that surrounds the Arena to his advantage, slaying the last tribute with her own axe as he tried desperately to cling to his intestines before passing out. I've seen his tape with the countless other tributes that I've studied for the Quell, yet I've never mentioned it to him or Katniss.

Neither of us says anything for a while. We just sit in the tension filled room, the gravity of his words settling into my subconscious whilst he sips at what appears to be water in a nearby glass. His eyes dart up to mine again, worries and horror shining in them as he whispers gruffly.

"Promise me that you won't tell her"

"Haymitch, how can I not tell her?! This is huge news, and she'll know if something's up"

Haymitch sits back in his chair, crossing one of his legs over the other; the light brown suit he's wearing is a pleasant change from his usual attire of vomit splattered shirts and pants frayed from constant wear.

"Peeta, frankly Katniss is a flight risk….She could give the game away and all of this work, all of this careful planning and precision and seven years of gathering information and getting into the upper circles of the Capitol will be for nothing. Is that what you want? There's a real chance that we can end Snow's tyranny right now if we go ahead at the Quell. But the girl can't act, unlike you, Peeta. She's not very good with the whole "putting-what-she's-feeling-into-actual-sentences"; you of all people know that"

I nod, understanding the gravity of the situation and the amount of shit that we're in should this fail. Haymitch's gaze is still fixed on me, as I stare at the ground, contemplating on what I should do and what's better for the sake of the rebellion. I should tell her, she deserves to know after all, yet what if he's right and this is our only chance for freedom? Our only chance for a better world? One where one day, Katniss and I could be together, without the fear of cameras or Snow shadowing us every step of the way. A word where one day, she just might feel safe enough to have children, to marry, to be a mother.

My lungs inhale a deep breath and I know that the hope for a future isn't lost on her not knowing.

"Alright Haymitch, I won't tell her, but I want to know everything. And I mean it when I say, everything"

The older man looks at me with a renewed glint in his eye and a change in his demeanour as I listen to his plans for a rebellion. For a future. For all of us.


	16. Chapter 16

SADNESS THAT THIS FIC IS NEARLY OVER!:(

Just a warning for all you kiddies who aren't of age for M rated scenarios!

This chapter and subsequent chapters features a bit of _**Dark Peeta**_….

Okay, _**Dark Peeta**_ has been throughout this story, but maybe I should clarify and say that from this point in he's _**Dark, Sexy, Possesive Peeta…. ;-)**_

So Be Responsible and if that doesn't float your boat then please… pass kindly onwards.

* * *

"Now remember! Today is a big, big day! Heads up, smiles wide and broad, we want to you to enjoy yourselves with this opportunity! Katniss, dear, stop scowling, you'll ruin your makeup….Stop!"

The petulance in Effie's voice is amusing as Katniss and I stand alongside one another, primed and polished before stepping on this monstrous train. The last memory I have of a train is from when we came home six months ago. When I felt like I had it all, when I thought we were invincible, unified by love; a thing that shouldn't have existed in the Hunger Games. Love shouldn't have let me come home with her, I thought it had, but in reality, it hadn't. Pity had made her pull out those berries, pity and a genuine urge to piss off the Capitol for their enjoyment in killing the sacrificial lambs of the Districts. I t was the train, this enormous contraption, sprawling with the expensiveness of the Capitol, its soft mahogany furnishings, lined carpets and billowing drapes had served its purpose in creating a fake lull of security for me.

They were left behind as I stepped off the platform with her in hand, walking alongside the bank where the wildflowers grew. The prospect of the Games and their cruelties would vanish in time and we would continue on with the rest of our lives, coping and struggling from the horror we had seen.

That was until Haymitch let the cat out of the bag; the secret that he and Katniss had hidden from me for so long had finally been revealed, and in that split second, I realised that the Arena and the real world bore no difference from the other. It had all been a charade, a method of survival in order to keep us both alive, to bring us both home.

I push those thoughts to the back of my mind. I can't hold keep on hating her whenever reminders of the past spring up in the present.

The train pulls away from the station in District Twelve, seemingly gliding through the vast open plains of what appears to be endless forestry, stretching for miles in all directions. We stay in the parlour carriage, its gaudy purple walls and turquoise carpets are an eyesore, just like the outfit that Effie is decked out in. I pace around, recalling how I'd felt going to the Capitol, the delight, the grandeur of it all, knowing that the same people were sending me to my death. There's no trace of that journey in this train, nothing similar from last time, I notice that even the drapes have been changed. Yet my mouth curls at the sight of the table and the dent that still remains from Katniss and her ordeal with Haymitch, yet it still stands, beautiful, carved, the work of fine craftsmanship that had yielded time and effort into it.

Once settled in, Effie leaves us so that we're alone, yet she warns us that we were given two separate rooms for a reason, not that Katniss or I care about rules. My mind drifts back to that day of the interview when she was getting fitted for that dress, and the events that happened following. Since then I haven't "held her hand" as she so eloquently put it, yet furiously jacking off when I'm alone at night doesn't solve my problem either. And the "trying" has been off the cards ever since we started training for the Quell; our energy and sex drives drained from running, lifting and sparring.

Katniss walks over to where I'm standing, watching me closely for a moment, analysing my mood.

I cast a glance at her, knowing how she feels about this trip, about what it means for the pair of us, the nightmare that we can always run from but never truly escape.

"I need to tell you something..." her voice soft and close against my ear; her hand resting atop my shoulder as she presses her head against my back. I continue to stare out the window, my palms outstretched at either side, perpendicular to my torso.

"Peeta, I'm sorry but… I didn't want it to happen... it just did and then… he kissed me Peeta! That day we fought! I don't want him, I want you…I'm sorry... I…" there's pleading in her voice, a soft unyielding plea that she'd never say to my face, but I can feel as her tears stain my back.

The fucking man beast went for the vulnerable girl.

My vulnerable girl.

Mine.

I slip away, quickly scooping her up in the process, as she squeals, masking the clunk that my leg makes across the thick carpet. There's a flood of profanities that stream out of her mouth as I fling her up over my shoulder like a sack of flour, until we reach the overly plumped couch with matching pillows and throw, all in that vile turquoise colour.

I fling her lightly onto the couch, her body thuds against the fabric, the dress she has on strains a little in the process and my eyes immediately focus on the shift that her skirt has made up her thighs; taffeta, netting and skin meshed together in a flurry of moments. I'm fascinated by the way her legs shift and turn as she tries to give out to me, my face un- readable as I stand before her, her legs in front of mine, her eyes squinted with anger and evident rage as I kneel down before her.

She's mine.

I haven't fought for nearly six months to lose her to the Capitol and certainly not to that asshole that missed his chance a long time ago when he had one.

Mine.

"WHAT THE HELL, MELLARK?! WHY THE….Peeta? What are you doing?"

I rest my hands on her knees; the skirt overshadows my fingers as they move beneath the netting.

"I'm going to make you forget about him" My hands drift from her kneecaps to her shins, relishing in the feel of her soft skin. " I'm going to do things to you that will make whatever kiss Gale gave you a fucking joke in comparison" She watches me as I tug her legs apart, my breath tickling her flesh. "I'm going to kiss every single inch of you."

My hands drift further to her ankles, my thumbs pressing into her bones in a circular motion, soothing yet firm at the same time, before reaching for her high heeled feet.

"I'm going to take my time and go ever" a high heel disappears in the background "so"; the strap of the other shoe is pulled off, teasingly "slowly". Her breath catches noticeably; "I'm going to make you come so hard before today is out; you won't remember his name, you won't even remember what it sounds like, because you'll be screaming mine".

"Peeta…" "I want you bad Everdeen. I want you bad right here, right now. I want the next time you see that bastard to think of this moment and of what I'm going to do to you. I want you to watch me whilst I do it. I want you to listen to the noises that you make when you want more. I want you to remember the feel of my hands on your skin and the long, slow, burning ache of them teasing in between your thighs. Then and only then, when you're looking at him in the eye I want you to remember that kiss you had with him and how it was nothing compared to me".

I am a man on fire.

Her head lolls back at the first kiss I place to her ankle, my hands never ceasing in their explorations of skin as I trace her calves. I pull away from her ankle, letting just the tips of my fingers smooth over her legs, catching behind the sensitive skin of her knees before progressing under the hemline of her dress, but never far enough to where her legs and body join. It's a slow, torturous process for the pair of us as every noise, every plea and every shift of her body in reaction to my mouth and hands is causing me to be increasingly turned on. My head follows suit after an agonizingly slow minute or two, kissing every inch of her leg; her long shins, lightly dotted with flecks of stubble after been shaved recently, her baldy knees, rounded; one sporting a yellowish bruise from days past. She squeals looking at me with dilated, dreamy eyes as the netting of the dress flutters against my nose, my hands trail further up her body, before finding the heat and wetness that's saturated her underwear.

"Ooohhhh…Peeta…. Fuck….."

Her eyes roll back into her head as I gently pull, watching them falling down to her ankles as my hands pull her hips towards me cupping her at the apex of her thighs, savouring the feel of her slippery skin against my palm. Shifting myself upwards, I position us so that her back lies against my chest, my hand never leaving her centre, but teasing her so slowly that she becomes even wetter from anticipation, her back arching into my chest.

"Katniss…" a hiss unintentionally slips from my mouth, "give me your hand; I want to watch you discover yourself." Her hand falls into mine and together, we collectively travel to her centre, fumbling for the soft, wet skin of her insides. I let her move my hand so that we both melt against her hot skin. "I want you to feel me behind you, feel me entirely, pulsing from what you're doing…" our fingers slip simultaneously inside of her as I undo the zipper, flinging her dress from view, before taking a mouthful of skin from her shoulder blade into my mouth, progressing up her neck until her lobe is in my mouth. "And then, after you fall apart, I'm going to taste you. I'm going to lick my way down until you can't see straight"

My finger plunges in of its own free will and curls inside of her, earning a loud groan from her and the friction caused by her brushing against my cock.

Her backside grinds into me as her flesh becomes even hotter, the back and forth rocking motion of our bodies, dictated by the increasing thrusts of our hands is becoming too much for her to bear as she stifles a loud cry when I cup her breasts.

"Peeta! Ohhhhh…..,Peeta, please, oh…Peeta, Peetaaaaaaaa…."

The rocking motion of our bodies is too much and she presses hard against me for a reaction. My hand slips from her insides too rub that sensitive spot that I know will end her longing. And in that instant, she comes, a breathless, sweaty, jumble of limbs, quivering in my arms, her head leaning back against my chest, eyes closed, and mouth open in ecstasy.

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I gently slide her down gently, letting her recover from the shocks of her orgasm. I shift my body so that I'm hovering over her, pressing kisses to her stomach, watching how she jumps at the feel of my mouth.

"Katniss, Katniss, watch me, stay with me?"

I can see the word forming on her lips, the same word that I'd said when she fell asleep on the night of the interview.

She breathes out "always", loud and breathy as I move further down.

She moans a long, deep sound when I arrive at her centre, swollen and wet from our previous encounter, moments earlier. My eyes focus on her and she watches with wild abandon under the relentless pressure of my tongue, flicking wildly from side to side in a zig- zag motion before sweeping her opening up and down slowly. The motion is repeated until my jaw starts to hurt and it's heavenly when her hands move to my hair, thrusting against my mouth; begging for more.

There's a load, lengthy growl that stirs in her throat, ripping the breath from her lungs as she falls again, an earth shattering experience, wrecking through her body as she jolts again at her orgasm's effects.

Her face is red, breathless, her chest heaving, trying to get her breath back as I crawl up her body, keeping her warm from her lack of clothing, collapsing on her chest.

"I thought you'd be mad at me… I can't blame you if you are; I was crazy when I heard about you and Madge…"

"I'm not mad at you… I'm mad at him for kissing you, especially when you were so vulnerable after our fight… I know I said things then, it hasn't been easy for me, Katniss, but I am trying. I just wanted to show you that I don't want to lose you or let you go, for anyone. Not for the Capitol, not for Gale, not for anything. You are mine… and I'm yours"

"Always…Peeta, always"

I smile at her, pressing one last kiss to her stomach before smiling at her again.


End file.
